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by Onedoesnotsimplyreadfanfiction
Summary: Ripley 'Roy' Williams was the classic definition of anti-social. She never believed the 'your destined for greatness' speech people preached to her, but never expected what life gave her instead. Post CA 2. -Contains Winter Soldier and all Avengers characters-
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys:)**

**If you're a newcomer, please go and check out Hidden Secrets in the Captain America category. You'll be able to follow along for a few chapters but may be confused when I reference characters from H.S. **

**If you came here from Hidden Secrets, here is what has been promised to you;)**

**Please leave any comments, questions and suggestions in the review section. I promise I will reply in the next author's note.**

**Disclaimer: No Marvel for me. **

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><p>"And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terror<p>

never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart-"

"Hey, Roy!" Jackson called from behind me. I sighed- that was the closest I've gotten to memorizing the whole poem. I set the tape down on the ladder I was currently balancing on.

"Hey Jackson, what are you doing here? Everyone else left an hour ago." I said, turning around so I could see him. My voice echoed through the gym, making the school sound abandoned. A group of seniors, including me, had been chosen to help decorate for the last day of school and set up for graduation and when we weren't done by 9:00 I was the one who stayed behind and finished up.

"Well, I just got done with baseball practice and I wanted to ask you something." He said, setting down his practice bag. I was pretty much done with the decorating so I climbed down from the ladder.

"And that would be?" I asked, grabbing the tape and streamers.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime?" He asked hesitantly. 'Of course he'd ask that. Why'd I even give him the chance.'

"Jackson, for the last 10 years of school you made fun of me for my weight. Now that I lose it you think you can act like none of that happened? My answer's no, please go somewhere that isn't here." I said. I tried to be as polite as possible, but _damn_, that task was hard. He seemed pretty disappointed to say the least.

"I thought you used to have a crush on me." He said approaching me. His voice had a faint sound of mock behind it.

"You mean in second grade? Yeah, you're right, I do remember that. I also remember you finding out and telling everybody so they could pick on me for the rest of the year. Let's just say my infatuation with you diminished immensely after that." I said bluntly. I closed the ladder and began to tote it back to the storage room when I felt a hand on my wrist pulling me back.

"Why don't you stop playing hard to get, bitch." Jackson said with fire in his voice. I dropped everything in my hands out of the shock, but quickly pushed against him with my free arm. He sneered when I began to hit him and punched me in the throat with quite a bit of force. I stopped hitting him and wrapped my hand around my neck, coughing uncontrollably. He threw me back and slapped me in the same breath, giving me no time to react and making me fall to the ground. I could barely breathe as is, so screaming was pretty impossible. Any sound I made came out like a whisper, and he smirked at my helplessness. He pulled out a small pocket knife and got me in a choke hold, pushing my head to the floor.

"Don't try anything, or this-" gesturing to the knife, "will end up _here._" he said, pressing the blade into my throat. Small tears rolled down the side of my face and I shook my head. I was terrified. I've always hated the thought of being helpless, useless, and I was all kinds of it now- and in the worst situation. He lightened his hold on my throat just enough so I could breath and made use of his knife by cutting through my shirt. I couldn't focus on one thought, so many were racing through my head. I shut my eyes hard enough that I saw spots and wished that I was just anywhere but here. He leaned forward and gave me a rough kiss, forcing his tongue into my mouth. I tried to shake my head and he stopped only to press the knife to my neck again.

"What did I say about that?" He asked viciously. The knife cut into my skin just enough to leave a scar, but not kill me. No, he wasn't done yet. I could feel his hands roam my chest and work their way down to my pants. I blocked it out as much as I could and tried to think of anything, so I thought of a plan. I just had to wait for my chance, but up until that point would be sickening torture, but it was that or death. When I felt his hand go lower and lower I tried desperately not to throw up. My heart was going so fast I thought I was going to faint, but I had to focus, or at least enough to be aware. After what felt like hours of grueling agony, he lifted his hands to release his belt. As soon as he let go of my neck, I squeezed my legs out from under him and ran as quickly as I could. It didn't make much a difference though, because he tackled me back down easily, the knife leaving a deep, long gash down the back of my thigh. I screamed to a volume that would've been heard a mile away, but it only came out as a pathetic squeak, if that. My leg twitched and I could feel the muscles rip apart. As soon as I hit the ground, I felt something inside me snap. Jackson turned me over with a vicious scowl and my hand just barely brushed his chest, but there was an explosion at the contact. For me, it felt like it happened in slow motion. My fingers landed on him, and his chest practically dissolved at the touch by how much pressure was in the explosion. It flung him back into a wall 50 feet away, his head breaking against it and leaving blood splattered on it. There was burn marks on his shirt, but nothing on me. I stared in stunned silence, my mind completely blank. Once I realized what happened, it was all too much. I tried to push myself up with extremely shaky arms, and proceeded to only get sick. Tears were flowing freely down my face and were obscuring my vision, but I pressed on- I just needed to do _something. _I slowly pulled out my phone, calling 911.

_"Hello, you have dialed 911, what is your emergency?" _I hesitated, thinking on how I should say it.

"A man, he-he's dead." I mumbled out.

"_And what is the location of your emergency?"_

"4-481 Elmhurst Road."

"_Who is this calling?"_

"Roy- uh, Ripley. R-Ripley Williams."

"_Did you witness the incident?"_

"Y-yes."

"_Did you see the assailant? Can you give a description?"_ I choked out a sob.

"It- it was me." I whispered, almost to myself. I dropped the phone down and walked to the wall, slowly sliding down the wall. The hardwood floor of the gym gave off reflections like a mirror, and when I looked at mine, my veins seemed to be glowing orange all around my body. I held up a trembling arm, sticking out my hand in front of me. I gave myself a mental push of sorts, and a few feet ahead of my hand formed a glowing ball of fire. It wasn't just fire though, there was flames circling all around it, like a miniaturized RPG explosion that was frozen in time. I always wanted a superpower- invisibility, flight, speed- but not this; not something so _destructive._ I raised my gaze across the floor and looked at Jackson, slumped on the ground, lifeless. The nauseating feeling returned with more strength this time, but I could only gag. I scooted into a corner, bringing my knees into my chest, tears silently falling down my face.

When the police arrived at the school, I was crumpled in the same position. They put handcuffs on me, which I didn't resist, and hopped to the cop car with the support of a policeman holding me up gently. No one spoke a word to me, if they did then it never reached me fully. My eyes were drooping quickly from the blood loss and they took me to the hospital first, seeing as I was injured heavily. I remember arriving at the hospital, but I was pretty out of it. My parents and sister, who was visiting from college, was there, their eyes red and puffy from tears, but they didn't approach me. I realize now that my sister had a look of sorrow mainly, but I could see disappointment, no disgust, written slightly on her face. Her expression made my stomach drop; my own family was disgusted with me. A few tears fell down my face before the blackness finally engulfed me and I prayed this was just a terrible nightmare.

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><p>The faint sound of beeping woke me up from my dreamless sleep. I quickly realized that I wasn't in my room and knew that it had been real, I had killed Jackson. I went to move, but a sharp, stinging pain in my leg, and a lesser, but still intense, pain on my neck that made me gasp and stop suddenly. I threw the sheets off of me and lifted the hospital down, revealing thick gauze wrapped all up and down my left thigh. There was an IV in my arm, probably pumping some sort of pain med cocktail into it, and a heart monitor on my finger. I put my gown back down and covered up with the sheets and checked out the room. The clock above the TV read 9:15, and it was light out through the windows, so I assumed whatever drug that was currently working its way out of my system knocked me out for a night. My parents and sibling wasn't in the room, and the chairs hadn't been touched. I didn't want to cry anymore. I didn't want to feel. So I brushed it off, pushed it out of my mind; ignorance is truly bliss.<p>

I laid my head back down on the pillow for a few moments, slowly beginning to fall asleep again when I heard multiple car doors opening and shutting. This was a small town, in Indiana no less, and our hospital was wide and long, but only two stories high. The doors didn't bother me, but the lack of voices and the familiar clicks of some sort of machinery. I gritted my teeth and- moving my left leg as little as I could- scooted out of the bed and hopped the three foot gap to the window. Looking down I saw three black SUVs, and several soldiers of the same color all carrying guns- except one in a long trench coat. There was a symbol of a bird on the side of all the SUVs and I knew they weren't FBI, CIA or anything close. They were all entering the building and my heart started thumping wildly. I didn't know who they were or what they wanted, but I could guess- and it wasn't good. I had a limited amount of time before they reached my door, and the only solution I could think of was run. Then again I didn't know how I would pull that off. I couldn't think of anything helping; running down the stairs would get me caught, practically leaving the room would screw me over. My love for the iron man suits finally came in handy as a though, that was _pretty_ ridiculous, pooped into my head. I hated now having to depend on this _curse_ of sorts, but I made a small explosion again, letting it hover in the air. I used my other hand and tried touching it, seeing if I would get burnt, but nothing happened. It was like touching a pocket full of thick steam, but it wasn't painful. I wanted to see if I could just make the blasts with just my mind, so I put my hands to the side and focused, getting me another explosion; albeit more unstable, but it would do. I looked up through the small window in the door and saw a row of soldiers at the end of the hall, moving this way. The last experiment would have be tested on the job, so I put my hands up against the window to my freedom, both of them at opposite corners, and gave it a small burst, shattering the glass, but cutting my hands deeply in the process. I hissed, but pushed the pain into the back of my mind. I knocked a few shards of glass of the bottom of sill and, with a pained cry, sat on it and swung my legs over the edge. I heard the doorknob jiggling behind me, so I sucked in a breath, closed my eyes tightly, and scooted off the edge, falling down quickly. Right as I felt my body completely leave the window sill I aimed explosions at both of my feet and hands and felt myself slow down. I peeked out one of my eyes and looked down; my plan worked. I had basically turned myself into a rocket, My hands and feet were engulfed in flames, hovering me a few feet above the and I gave it more force, sending me upwards. I zoomed past my window, gunfire coming from it, but they were all too slow. And even though my life was quickly turning into a pile of shit, I smirked at my wit and success.

I flew to my house, hoping no one was home and having my wishes granted. I couldn't give two shits about where my family was and I honestly didn't have time. I only went to the house to pack a bag of clothes. The front door was locked, but I remembered where the spare key was and opened the door, a blast of our cinnamon apple air freshener hitting me like a wall. I closed and locked the door behind me and slowly made my way up the stairs to my room. I was expecting my room to be the usual poster-covered, un-organized piece of perfection that I loved dearly, but all the 'me' that remained in it was the red walls. A suitcase was sitting beside my bed and all my posters were gone. My heart sunk when I realized what they had done. Mutants weren't looked highly upon in this society, but I was never one to judge. My parents, on the other hand, thought they could be the end of us- saw them as a threat- and I was one of them. I assumed the doctors and police told them what happened, told them that I was 'different', and thought that I had just killed Jackson for fun or out of insanity. My fingertips sparked out of the anger running through me, but I tried to control it; I wouldn't be staying for much longer. I opened the suitcase and found that half my work was already done- all of my clothes were neatly packed. I pulled out a bra, panties, my Good Mythical Morning t-shirt and a pair of denim shorts that I changed into. I tried to be quick, but as my pain meds were wearing off, the burning sensation was starting to hit me even harder. The adrenaline that acted as my push was slowly fading as well, and my hands were bleeding too much. I grabbed two shirts and tied them around each hand, trying to stop the blood. I packed my sketchbook, and as I thought of my drawings I thought about my piano downstairs. I had gotten a beautiful black baby grand piano for my 16th birthday instead of the usual car and was much happier with it. I had no problem working for my car instead, and cried for a solid hour when I came home to a piano in the living room. There was no way I would be able to carry it to wherever I was going, and I was sad at my loss, but the skill would stick with me. I pushed it out along with all the other problems I was having and focused purely on the task at hand. I assumed I could find all my other belongings; hairbrush, makeup, toothbrush, etc. from somewhere else, grabbed all the cash I had- which was $49.00 plus a small piggy-bank full of quarters, and decided to hop back down the stairs. I looked at the small dry-erase board we used for a week planner and decided to leave my parents a parting note. I erased all the reminders and grabbed the black marker, but when I tried to write something, my mind went blank. I wanted to write something that would spite them, but as much as I despised them for abandoning me I still loved them up unto this point and I couldn't bring myself to my feelings. I stood there, wasting time, for a few moments thinking on what I should do, so I decided to write a letter to someone I still held close to me, my best friend.

I grabbed a pen and paper, and jotted down a message for Megan, probably the only friend I'll have left after the news spreads.

_Megan,_

_There'll be a story on the news about me and if it sounds like I wouldn't do that it's because I didn't. Of course, you know me almost better than I know me so you probably already knew that. If people talk about me, don't stand up for me. You only have a few more weeks of school left and I don't want you hurt for my problem- I really don't care what they say anyway, I know what really happened. I will try to come back when and/or if it calms down, until then 'stay gold, Ponyboy.'_

_If you don't know who's this crappy handwriting belongs to after 15 years, I'd be surprised. _

I folded the piece of printer paper in half, put it in an envelope and addressed it. Grabbing a piece of old rope my dad kept around the house, I tied the surprisingly light suitcase to my back and made sure it was secure before grabbing the letter, putting it in the mailbox, sticking the little red flag up, and shooting back off into the sky, cursing as I watched the shirts burn off my hand

I got maybe 50 feet off the ground when I realized I had no place to go and I packed no shoes. Putting my priorities first I made a plan to buy some cheap sneakers from Dollar General. Now, as for the homeless part, that was a bit tougher. I tried to think of a place I've always wanted to go to- somewhere where anybody of any status could fit in.

Well, I guess I'm headed to New York.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys:)**

**If you wanted to know how often I post, I put up a new chapter once a week, two if I can. On my last ff I never pre-wrote any of the chapters, but I am on this one, so it may be a little different. The only reason why I won't update once a week is because either life is coming into effect or my laptop was being the glitchy, old thing it is. My chapters will also be a little more than 2,000 words pretty much every time unless it's my second upload maybe or a cliffhanger. **

**Other than that, here's chapter 2;) **

**Please leave any questions, comments or suggestions in the review section and I promise to answer them in the author's notes. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned Marvel, I'd take money baths entirely too often. If I tried to take a money bath now, I'd be in a tub with a few quarters, maybe a dollar or two.**

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><p>The good news was I could fly <em>fast<em>. I would be able to race a jet- and win- to be honest, and I didn't even feel the g-force of my speed, but I also had a problem.

My leg hurt like a bitch and my hands were ground beef.

When I flew I had to hold my legs and hands up, so I stayed _flying_, but as the meds wore off the pain grew worse, and by giant increments at a time. It felt like the hands of Zeus himself were trying to rip my thigh in half, and my hands felt like Freddy Krueger was giving me the strongest handshake he could manage. I had to stop right inside the state lines of New York, still having a ways to go. Once I got to the outer limits of the closest town I slowed myself down, trying not to hit ground like a meteor, and, as carefully as I could, landed on my feet. My leg trembled in protest, but I bit my cheek and applied only the necessary pressure I needed to walk. It was the middle of the day, and I couldn't just waltz into a store in my condition. For starters, my bandages were completely visible, along with a major limp and tear-strewn face. My hair probably looked like a wad of tangles from the wind and my shoes were non-existent. Actually, as I looked at my feet, they were glowing orange- as were my hands. Just another reason I couldn't go, I concluded, trying not to let it freak me out as much as it wanted to. I really only saw one conclusion, a bad one at that; wait it out. I untied the suitcase from me, and sank down onto my but, leaning against a tree. The next 11-12 hours were the longest, most _torturous _hours I've ever had in my life. They were filled with tears of agony and dry heaving, since there was nothing left in my stomach, and every second that ticked by felt like a microwave's version of a minute. The only thing that helped was the fact that when I had landed I was in a forest, the place I loved most. I often went fishing and hunting, two of the three things I loved doing most, and it took away a small amount of pain. As miniscule as the relief felt, I was thankful. When the moon was finally out and the lights of cars were starting to move to the distance, I knew I could almost go. I waited another half hour before making my way. I'm sure I looked ghastly on my way there; whatever was holding my leg together was destroyed a while ago and I could feel the blood seeping through the gauze and down my leg. My hands were no different- they had blood caked on them, and due to the deepness of the cut, were still slowly bleeding. It was a feeling I had never had before, I'm sure nothing short of the pain of giving birth, but I knew it would just get worse if I didn't get what I needed.

On the upside, the town was small and had an actual pharmacy, not just a hospital or small department tacked onto another store. I despised that I was robbing a store, but I could hate myself later, perhaps when I could actually focus on more than one thing. Stumbling up behind the old brick building, I noticed the window peering out. I wasn't going to use my hands to prevent glass from going everywhere, like last time, because that would just make matters worse. I simply stood quite a ways back and gave a mental signal, sending pieces of the shattered window far. Luckily the opening wasn't too high, but it was at around the upper waist level, causing lots of muffled screaming through my clenched teeth. Once inside I was feeling extremely faint from the exertion and blood loss, but my mind was clear enough to know I needed to get this done. I remember from my days spent watching House, that Hydrocodone, or Vicodin, was a pretty strong pain reliever, so that's what I looked for. I hobbled around the shelves, reading as quickly as I could, eventually finding it nearly hidden in the back. I frantically opened the bottle, dry swallowing two and hoping they took effect fast. I took a few bottles and stuffed them in my pockets, hoping they'd keep their effect for a while. Since I knew my gauze was pretty useless and I needed something to clean my hand I searched for new material, finding it up front. I took out a few rolls of gauze, a bunch of wound cleaner, aka rubbing alcohol, and cotton balls. As I slowly un-wrapped the old gauze I could feel the drugs kick in ever so slightly, but it was a major relief. I worked on my thigh first, and grabbed a handful of cotton balls, drenching them in rubbing alcohol. It stung terribly, but was nothing compared to the deep, stabbing soreness I had been feeling all day. Once I could actually see the cut I noticed that I was right when I thought my stitches were broke, actually they were all broke. The cut was deep enough that I needed two rows of stitches, and with all of them gone it would take an exponential amount of time to heal, if it even did. I sighed at my luck and hoped that it would heal well anyways, though I'd have a massive, ragged scar from it. My hands were unfortunately no better, and would definitely have several scars as well. As for my neck, only a 4 inch incision-like mark would remain, and for now it wasn't giving me any trouble. I re-wrapped my leg and hands before cleaning up my mess, packing a shopping bag with needed materials, scribbling a 'sorry, hope you understand my predicament' note and throwing down a twenty I still had before leaving again. The Vicodin was clearly helping, and even though it wasn't taking all the pain away my body felt immensely better. I went back to my belongings in the woods and changed out of my bloody shorts in a clean pair of jeans. I was starving and tired, so I decided to quickly go to the only place open at this time of night, McDonalds, and head back here to sleep. Using six more dollars for my Big Mac meal- I was hungry, okay- and somewhat contently walking back to my tree, I fell asleep much quicker than I thought possible and had mercifully dreamless night.

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><p>When I woke up, it was to the sound of garbage trucks and police sirens. The garbage trucks didn't concern me, but I knew the police sirens were the result of a pharmacy owner calling in the robbery. I jammed my 'belongings' into my bag, changed into shorts, and slowly unrolled the gauze on my hands. I just left the old gauze on the ground- if the police would find it, they wouldn't be able to track me anyways. My hands were still somewhat clean, but weren't the best looking things. They desperately required better medical attention that I could give, but would have to go without. I tied my bag back onto my back, looking like a giant backpack, and took off to NYC.<p>

I arrived on the outskirts maybe 45 minutes later and stopped around 6 miles away from any highway to the city. I walked the miles to the very limits of the city and called a cab, telling the driver to go as far as $23.00 could get me, and though it wasn't far at all, it was more than I was willing to walk. While I was riding I looked at my suitcase beside me and thought about what I should do. I knew the best way to start over again was to go to a homeless shelter, try and get a job, and go from there, but with that I'd have to make a whole new identity. Another possibility was to just stay homeless. It was an option, although a bad one considering I knew nothing on how to survive in a city. If was to be homeless in a woods, I'd be set. I'd often gone camping with nothing other than the emergency lighter and tent, if I really needed it. I knew how to make traps, go fishing with no rod or net, make a shelter and start a fire, but I didn't want to live that way. While I was trying to make my decision, my mind kept reverting back to that agency that, I'm assuming, was trying to arrest me at the hospital. They were like nothing I had heard of, but guessed they secretly worked with the government. I didn't have much time to ponder upon it because the car soon came to a stop and my money was gone. And I was still shoeless. I sighed and got out, waving to the cab driver who seemed he could care less and went on his way. I frowned; asshole number 1 was out of the way, I guess. I felt like an idiot with what I was wearing and what I was sure I looked like, but then again this in New York- I should fit right in. I walked to the inner city, stopping in an alley to take some more Vicodin once. I searched for a shelter for hours, all the while thinking my plan through. Once I got to a shelter, I was going to act like I don't remember or, if everything goes well, give them a fake name and play it out from there. I eventually found the shelter and my stomach dropped involuntarily; three days ago I was a senior in high school, eager for the day I would graduate just a few weeks away. And now I was entering a homeless shelter, being chased by some agency, and I was a mutant- the one thing my parents were scared of. 'No. I wasn't going to do this. Not now, not ever if I could help it. Push it aside, deal with the problem later.' I thought to myself. I just had to keep going, keep moving until I was out of the metaphorical web. I planned out my meeting with the person in charge of the shelter; don't limp, put on a mask, and reveal nothing about your past life. I pushed through the doors of the shelter, the classic hospital smell rushing up to my nose, and walked to what seemed to be the front worker here.

"I, I need help." I say, putting up a desperate façade. She nods and types something into a computer.

"Can I get your name and age, sweetie?" She asked me politely.

"I-I can't remember my name, maybe it started with an R? My age- uh I think I'm 19. I've been on the streets for a while, but I remember just waking up on the side of a road one day, with this suitcase." I replied to her. She nodded solemnly and typed the information into the computer. I really had to use my poor acting skills for this next one.

"Please, I don't need to know who I am, I don't need to know my family- obviously they couldn't have wanted me too much if I woke up along the side of a road. I don't want to have to deal with reuniting with people who didn't want me. I just want to live, to have a life." I said sadly. She nodded and tried to console me.

"We'll do what we can, but there are several cases like yours. For now we'll give you a room here and try to find you a job from one of our sponsors, but it may be a while. You'll be okay, I promise." I didn't like the feeling I got on using a lie to get me by, but not all of it was false. I didn't care about family right now, and I was just trying to get a life. All my high school years I've been told I need to get a life, never thought I'd be doing it like this. The lady grabbed a key from the desk and showed me along, explaining a few things on the way back to wherever I was going to stay.

"We hate seeing young faces come here, but the world isn't as pretty as it seems, and we have to adjust to it. We run our home in a series of steps, usually finding a small job- working at a restaurant, usually- and have them work there until they get a better job, or are able to afford their own living space. You came in here at the right time, I believe, because if I remember correctly we just had another young lady move out of here and onto a better job, and her old job is still available. She worked as a waitress in a small café, which should be perfect for you." She said, smiling back at me. We arrived at my new room and unlocked the door, showing me in. It was much nicer than I would've expected; clean, a twin bed in the corner and nightstand beside it. There was a shelf of books, which made me feel much better, a lamp on the nightstand and a fan on the ceiling. The small window on the far wall allowed me a view of the street, and I felt _off_. If you've ever moved into a new house for the first time, it's a bit like that, just maybe without the joy, depending on your situation. I didn't let my helper see this though; instead I smiled like I just got a new car. I asked her if there was any rules I needed to know, only replying with 'just don't do anything illegal and you'll be fine.' I thanked her profusely and she smiled and hugged me before telling me to rest a bit and relax a bit. I nodded and thanked her once more but right as she was about to leave she asked me something.

"Why didn't you go to the police first?"

"The same reason up front. I can't remember much; it comes in out like mists, but from what I can remember my family despised me. I don't know if I was a good kid or not, but either way I didn't want to go back to that- I wanted a new life. I tried doing it alone for a long time; maybe around a year, but when things stayed the same I had to get some help." I replied, trying to act as well as I could. It must've worked, because from the expression she made she believed it. She told me she would work on my case and call me when she was ready. I nodded and hugged her once more before she left.

I set my suitcase down on the floor with a heavy sigh of relief. My list of problems shrunk down considerably and made my life a bit easier for the moment. I noticed that I had a small bathroom to the left of me and went through the small doorway. A single person shower, a toilet and sink scattered the room and my lips pulled up into a small smile. Looking in the shower there was small travel size shampoo and conditioner bottles and on the sink was a small hairbrush. Above the toilet rested a few white towels and beside it were some feminine products, so I assumed this room was just for ladies.

I was so eager to take a shower I had my clothes ripped from my body in just a few seconds. I put the shower on the hottest setting it had and jumped in as soon as I could. I hugged myself in the water, embracing the heat. I could feel my gauze soaking through, but it didn't care; the feeling of dirt and grime washing off me was too overwhelming. Once I got over my initial feeling, I slowly took off my bandages and tossed them out the door in heaping wet messes. My leg looked terrible, as well as my hands, but at least they didn't look infected. The cuts themselves were just ragged and large, and I knew they would remain like that forever. When I looked at my leg I thought back to that night that felt like a long time ago, but also a few days ago. I was heavy all through junior year in high school, so dating or sex was generally out of mind. When I got my job and a car, opportunities opened up for me. I could buy healthy foods instead of making my parents buy them, and I could go out more, so during the summer I did everything I could, worked my ass off- literally and figuratively- and took in the prize graciously. When my senior year began, people were surprised to see me healthy, considering I saw none of them over the break, and people started asking me out. I said no to every single guy, all of them had harassed me when I was heavy, but when I looked good they thought they could act like everything was fine. Jackson was one of the most 'popular', if you get my drift, guys in the school, and I could always see him eyeing me. He never even asked me out until that night, but I guess he couldn't handle rejection. I can't think of his face now without feeling weak and scared. And I hated it. My anger towards him was huge and I wished no one was sad he was dead, but I know everyone _loved_ him. When you're never in the 'in' crowd, you realize things. Like how people hide who they are, and change themselves constantly so they always fit in. It's like putting a puzzle together with just white squares. They're all the same; same music, same humor, same personalities. I was so excited to leave, to go to college, but I guess life had other plans.

After a few more minutes of thinking, I shut the water off and stepped out into the steam filled room. I blindly grabbed for a few towels, finding them and drying off quickly. I walked back into the bedroom; towel wrapped around me, and changed my gauze. Once I was done, I hopped into a pair of dark skinny jeans, a white v-neck and _still had no shoes. _I muttered a curse before putting on a pair of socks and heading to the bathroom. I brushed my hair with the small hairbrush from on the sink and looked at myself in the mirror. Something didn't look right, like I was missing something, but I couldn't figure it out. I shrugged it off; I do a lot of that now, and dried my hair with the towel. I cleaned up my mess when I was done and walked to my suitcase. I was going to be living out of it for a while, and I needed to hide what a homeless person wouldn't usually have- like a sketchbook, Vicodin, peroxide and gauze. I had a pocket on the inside of my bag that generally couldn't be seen and I thanked whatever was up there before packing everything away. I could get away with having nicer clothe, due to my story, and just say a Laundromat would let me clean them for free while I was 'living on the streets'. Tossing my bag beside my bed, I went over the bookshelf. They had the normal classics; Tom Sawyer, Gone with the Wind, etc. but they did have a few Stephen King novels. I loved all of the movies they had after the books, and read a few, but The Green Mile and Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption were my favorites, and they were staring me in the face. Grabbing The Green Mile I plopped onto the bed and read until my eyes were heavy. My eyes closed slowly and my hands drooped to my sides. I was out before I knew it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys:)**  
><strong>Nothin really to say here other than a huge thank you to all the people who've followed, favorited and reviewed already, you guys are awesome;3 If you guys have any suggestions, questions or comments leave them in the review section and I will respond to them in the next author's note. Other than that, here's chapter 3;)<strong>  
><strong>Disclaimer: People who own Marvel usually write the comics, not the fanfictions. This fanfiction is a good example of that.<strong>

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><p>When I woke up, the front worker, Charlotte, was waiting for me at the door. She was going to take a picture of me for the records and try to find a name for me. I was placed against a wall and was told to be expressionless. The picture that came out was equally as bad as driver's license pictures, just to give you an illustration. When she did take the picture, she kept looking at the bandage on my neck. I decided to take it off, deciding it was healed, and was thankful, for once, that she jumped to conclusions. She probably thought it was just one of the usual 'side-effects' of being homeless, one of many. When she was done, she walked over to the computer and started working. I sat by her desk for a half hour, watching Charlotte put all the information into the system and find my new identity.<p>

I was now Rachel Anne Smith, 19, of New York City; brown hair, brown eyes, and 5' 9". I worked at a café in the inner city.

And I was happy with that. I hadn't been aspiring to be a surgeon, or a lawyer or some boring professional thing that all my teachers told me I was smart enough to do and more, no, I wanted to be an illustrator. Or maybe a pathologist; autopsies are awesome.

A person who draws for a living or a person who works with dead people. Really makes a difference if one person doesn't do that job, huh. Working at a café seemed pretty optimistic considering I just discovered I was a mutant, was kicked out of the house, and ditched by my family. Once Charlotte was done typing everything she told me that she called the café owner, where the last person here worked, and said I had an interview and training in a few hours after the place closed down for the night. I had gotten extremely lucky with getting a room here, let alone a job. There were at least 30 people here at a time, all looking for rooms and jobs, and I got here at the absolutely right time to get both. I was told to be in the main room in an hour for supper, to dress nice for the meeting, and was given a pair of white hand-me-down Bob's before I headed back to my room. After shutting the door behind me I pulled the sketchbook out of my suitcase. I loved drawing, especially Banksy stencils. I decided to start on the stencil of a woman hugging a bomb and drew until my hands hurt. When it was done, almost an hour later, it looked almost exact, but I always make them different. For this one I had the bomb on a counter, this one reading two seconds left until explosion. I looked over at my clock on the nightstand and saw that it was time for supper. I headed down to the main room, seeing a crowded line for food. Tonight's meal was chili, and it must've been a favorite around the shelter because people were going nuts. I hadn't eaten all day but I was perfectly content with waiting, all of these people had it worse than I did. Once I got my considerably large bowl of chili I sat down by a girl around my age. She was the happiest and upbeat I've ever seen a person in a negative situation. When I took a seat, she greeted me immediately.

"Hey, I've never seen you around here before. So, what'dya do? Runaway? Gamble your money away? Kill a man?" She asked so nonchalantly that I couldn't help but break into laughter.

"No, no, I was never caught for that." I answered when I could get it out between laughs. She chuckled with me for a while and introduced herself.

"I'm Sierra."

"Rachel." I answered back. We talked for the hour we could, going over how we got here and what we were doing. I learned that Sierra grew up with an alcoholic brother raising her, taking all the money she earned from her job for more booze. Her parents died in a car accident when she was 6 and her brother was 18, and he managed to keep custody. For as much as she had to go through I was surprised how easily she shrugged it off now. Of course, the only way I've been dealing is shrugging it off, but she also was acknowledging that it happened. She was going to be working with me at the café, telling me I would start out as a server beside her. She had the first shift, so she got back to the shelter usually around 1:00. When supper was over it was time for my interview, so we said our 'bye's to each other and I went back to Charlotte. She then wrote me a few directions on a small post-it note and sent me on my way. Now, let's just put this out there- I came to New York because I would be able to fit in and it looked fun out here. That does not mean I'm good with big cities.

I'm terrible in big cities. No, no, I don't think you understand. I lived in Creighton, Indiana my whole life and have gotten lost more times than I'd like to admit. Just to give you an illustration, Creighton had a population of 8,000. When compared to NYC it's like comparing a match to the Tsar Bomb. So, when I was sent to go find a small café maybe 5 blocks away, I was screwed. If Charlotte handed me a GPS I'd probably still manage to lose my way, but at least I tried. I made it about 2 blocks before I was confused and started asking people where the Grounds and Grains Café was. I was eventually directed towards it properly by a very nice lady going there herself. I told her I was going there for an interview and thought they might be closed already, but she said she'd show me there anyway. When we got there the store was closed as I thought, but she pulled out a key and unlocked the doors. I chuckled and smiled up at her. She smirked and pushed on the doors, the smell of coffee rushing up to my nose.

"When you told me you were coming here for an interview it thought I'd just start it then. Most people act two different ways in a work place and in public, but so far you seem to be pretty good. Now, my name is Katherine, but you can call me Kat." She said, introducing herself. I told her my name, or my new identity, and the usual information and we got to the questions. Of course she asked me what I was like as the first question.

"Well, I don't quite remember, but I have learned a few things about myself over the past few years. I don't like any sports other than hockey and fishing. I love film scores and trade it for traditional music; I can play the piano very well, although I don't know how. I have a great memory but write as much down as I can anyway, and I consider myself punctual, diligent and clever." She nods and moves onto a few more questions, eventually ending the interview and just talking. We both had almost the same sense of humor and we joked around for almost half an hour before moving onto training. I picked up taking orders well, mainly because I've done it before for volunteer work, but that didn't fit in with my lie. When I was done with training she gave me a uniform, the time I'd work and directions for when I came in Monday. I was taking first shift, so I'd get here at 5:50 a.m, a few minutes before the store opens, and serve with Sierra. It was pretty dark outside, so we both left the café and said goodbye before she went to her apartment and I went back to the shelter. My memory served me well as I made my way back, because I wasn't going up to anyone at this time of night. When I got back I saw Sierra watching Late Night with Jimmy Fallon in the 'community room' and went up to tell her the news.

"So, how'd it go?" She asked before I got a word out. "As good as it could, I guess. I'm working first shift with you, so that's a plus." I said, sitting on the small couch beside her. We watched in silence for a while, other than the occasional laughing. It was weird just being alone, but a good feeling altogether; it made me feel at peace and content. We stayed this way all through the show before Sierra spoke again.

"So, are you gonna tell me what really happened?" 'Uh, okay?'

"I got the job and work first shift?" I said, confused. She smirked a bit and looked towards me.

"It's bothering you. You feel alone; like you can't talk to anyone. Good thing for you is you're not alone." She started saying. I was completely lost. I was pretty sure I knew what was happening, but I didn't think it was possible. It was almost like she read that thought, because she laughed softly.

"That's because you assume correctly. Mutations differ in several ways; for example I'm an empath, telepath- although I hate reading people's mind- and can see the future in some people. So, when you told me what happened at supper I could tell something was wrong, but it was a bit too crowded to talk about there or focus directly on your thoughts. You don't have to tell me, but if you want someone to talk to I'm always available." She told me. My eyes stung with unshed tears that I could talk to someone. I nodded and she smiled at me. I didn't feel like telling her tomorrow, or waiting at all, so I told her. I told her about the rape, my powers, Jackson's death, my parents' abandonment and the agency that came to me in the hospital. We talked for almost an hour, and she told me about how she found her powers. She told the truth about her parents and her brothers, but left out the part where he'd abuse her for being a freak. When she was 13 she found out that whenever her brother would tell her a lie she would be able to tell. If he was angry, she could feel it, and she could see what would happen to him or what he would do months, almost a year, in advance. He eventually found out about her mutation when she was 19 and kicked her out for good. She's been at the shelter for almost 2 years now and never had anyone to talk to about her mutation either, so when I came she was ecstatic. We eventually fell asleep on the couch, and were lucky it was it was the weekend or we'd be screwed going into work late. Oh, and if you've never not had a job and had no money while also in a homeless shelter.

It's not fun.

I hate being either not productive or not doing something. Essentially, I hate boredom. And I was bored out of my mind. I stayed in my room with Sierra and when I moved to my suitcase to take my Vicodin she asked why. I told her I had busted all the stitches in my leg while I made my escape when she then busted out of the room. I sat there confused for a minute or two before she came back with a needle and thread.

"No. Hell no." I said bluntly. She shut the door behind her and tried to reason.

"When I was in high school I interned at the hospital and trained to be a nurse. That cut will take longer to heal than the Vicodin you have will last. I know how to stitch it back together if you'd let me." She said, giving me a pleading look. I weighed my options briefly before reluctantly nodding my head. She told me to take a shower, or at least clean it before changing into shorts and a t-shirt. I cooperated, taking off the old gauze, thoroughly scrubbing my leg and pulling on my basketball shorts and Silence of the Lambs tank-top before walking back out into the bedroom. Sierra had the needle threaded and was cleaning it off with the rubbing alcohol. I felt pretty queasy with the pain I knew I'd feel, but laid down on the bed like she told me to.

"Do you have a clean towel?" She asked once I did.

"Yeah, in the bathroom." She nodded and retrieved it, folding the end a bit and handing it to me. "This will hurt, but you can't scream unless you want to explain what happened to Charlotte." She told me with a sympathetic look. I nodded and bit down on the towel, my hands shaking uncontrollably. I could feel energy pulsing to them, small shocks echoing in the room, but tried to keep it down. I felt Sierra's hand on the back of my knee before the needle pushed into my thigh. I moaned into the towel, my voice being muffled. The cut was still deep, and Sierra was pushing the needle down maybe an inch into the cut and pulling back through the other side. I was sweating from the sick feeling I got, and I had to close my hands into fists when larger sparks flew from my fingers. I closed my eyes, tears leaking from them, and focused on not throwing up. I counted away the seconds and when she was done stitching it had taken 17 minutes and 53 seconds. The pain didn't fade away but stayed glued to my leg. The muscles twitched, my whole thigh stung and felt like it was burning. Sierra put the needle and thread down before telling me she'd be right back. A few minutes later she returned with an ice pack before laying it on my leg and using the gauze I had to secure it. I slowly sat up on the bed, trying not to scream. My fingernails were digging into my hands and causing more pain, but it took my mind off of my leg.

"What am I supposed to do with the pain I have now?" I asked a bit displeased.

"I could try something, although I don't know if it will work or not." She replied unsure.

"Try it anyway." I said firmly. She nodded and pressed her palm to my head. In a few seconds I could all the pain I was feeling diminish, even the pain that wasn't in my leg. I felt completely fine after another moment, like I had never had the original accident. Sierra took her palm away and I looked at her confused. "I tried that once, but it didn't work as well. Since I'm an empath I can project feelings through contact, so I kinda tied our feelings together a bit so I wouldn't constantly have to hold my hand to your head. Not to pat myself on the back, but it's pretty awesome." She said, smiling at the end. I laughed a bit and got up from the bed with no problems.

"You don't feel anything either, right?" I asked cautiously. If she just traded in the pain I would gladly take it back.

"Nope, nothing at all. And before you go and run a marathon, you're still going to have to take it easy on your leg." I nodded and grabbed some different clothes before changing in the bathroom. Once I was dressed in my knee-length jean shorts and plain white tank-top we headed back out into the living room, but since I could walk comfortably Sierra thought she should show me around New York for a bit. She gave me a simple run-down of how things worked in a big city because coming from a small town I was pretty lost. We walked around for a few hours, talking about random things before we got on the subject of our mutations. When she started talking about when she first discovered her 'powers' I remembered something she told me earlier.

"So, you can see into the future." I said, sounding like I was getting at something.

"Yeah?" She replied with a questioning look on her face.

"Can you see into mine?" She paused for a moment, focusing on seemingly nothing.

"Yup." "….. And?" The corner on her lips turned up slightly.

"Haven't you ever seen Back to the Future? Or the two sequels?" "Yeah, but I don't think I'm gonna cause any giant breaks in the time line." I joked back at her. She laughed subtly before looking back towards me.

"Alright, alright. Uh…. Don't eat the tacos tomorrow, you'll regret it." She said in a mocking tone. "Aw, come on! Ugh, okay then, so can you see into your future?" She stopped dead in her tracks. Her face fell slightly and I could even tell she paled a bit.

"Yes." She whispered, almost to herself, before she just kept walking.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys:) **

**I'm back with another eventful chapter. The next one should be out around/on Friday, just to give you an idea. If anyone thinks I could shape up on how I write, the advice would be great and welcomed. Other than that, leave any comments, questions and suggestions in the review section.**

**_Thank you to everyone that has favorite, followed or reviewed Home- I cannot put into words how good it feels to get a little notice on my phone when one of you lovelies do. And to all the readers of Home, you are none less appreciated- I love every single one of ya's:)_**

**Disclaimer: ****_NO MARVEL FOR ME!_**

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><p>Weeks passed by and Sierra's powers were never spoken about. The day we last talked about her seeing the future we just changed the subject and went on. That's how it's been since; we great friends now, but both know not to bring it up. My first day of work went great; all the customers I served were nice, and the atmosphere of the shop was great, and the whole day was generally peaceful. After a week or so of working I memorized people. The kind of people that came in everyday at the same time, sat in the same seat, ordered the same thing, they were my favorite. I got to know them quite a bit, and it felt good to talk to people and have a sort of consistency. I became more optimistic with how my 'life' was going, and was content, at least, with where I was at. Everything was going far better than I'd expected it to.<p>

The last couple of days, though, Sierra's been 'off'. I guess everybody has- I mean, there was a giant facility that exploded, and a terrorist, presumably an alien, was captured in Germany a few days ago. The news had everyone anxious, but Sierra looked legitimately _sick_ from it. She was pale all the time and couldn't seem to focus. Whenever I asked her what was wrong she always answered by telling me she was just picking up a bug, but nothing major. I always managed to cheer her up, use our 'emotional bond' and have her feel better, or at least get her to smile a bit. When we came into work today though, it was the worst I had seen her. Getting up this morning and walking to the café I could tell that she had been crying last night and there were dark bags under her eyes; not only that but her mood was definitely effecting me. I asked her again if anything was wrong, but I got no answer this time. She was in autopilot it seemed, and when we got to the shop she went straight to working, trying to avoid everyone and get her mind off whatever was bothering her. I couldn't even get close to her the whole day and every time I would ask her something she'd just find a new customer to attend to. It stayed like this almost until our shifts were up, when a loud boom was heard across the city. Sierra froze, but I set down my tray and wondered outside like everyone else, looking for the source of the sound. The café was a few blocks from the almost complete Stark Tower, and right above it was a literal black hole. Not one that sucked in everything in sight, but a black hole to space it seemed like.

Screams erupted from all around me, but I was rendered speechless. People shoved past me trying to run to safety, but along with a select few, I stayed and watched in horror. Figures, no doubt aliens, swarmed out of the gap in hundreds. I saw the Iron Man suit blow up a few of them coming out, but there was just too many. I broke out of my haze when they came closer and ran back inside the store.

"Sierra!" I shouted, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the counter. She was in a haze, but I pulled her behind the bar and crouched down with her.

"I-I have to go do something, I think I can help if I can. Stay here, I'll be on the roof." I told her. I waited for a response or acknowledgement of any kind, receiving a small nod, before rushing back out the back entrance. I kicked off my shoes and rolled up my sleeves before checking to see no one was around. Luckily no one had decided that the small alleyway behind the café would be their designated safe area, so I shot myself up to the roof, burning my socks and the bottoms of my jeans. Once I was on the roof, walking like a penguin due to the hot gravel on top, I looked towards the opening, just in time to see a giant leviathan fly out of the giant tear in the sky. My mouth drops open, but I quickly remember why I chose this scenic area and put my hands up. I looked at my targets, thought of them exploding, and 'poof'. Dead. 15 or so aliens were blown to bits in a fiery blaze before they fell to Earth, lifeless. I repeated my method with the aliens that were already in the city and discovered I could hold an explosion. It was like a had a giant laser-pointer from hell; I could move the ball of flames and smoke anywhere I wanted to and could even knock things down with it, other than just catching things on fire. After a minute of doing this I noticed a weird looking jet land only a few blocks between the café and Stark Tower. It had a pretty bumpy landing, probably due from the same thing that caused black smoke to be billowing from the left engine. When the door on the back fell open I watched a historical legend, Captain America- who was supposed to be dead- walk out along with three other people I had never seen before. They ran to the tower and as I looked up I saw a giant leviathan fly out of the hole. This _thing_ can be best described as an oversized luck dragon that mated with a blue whale and was jettisoned into space. Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, I was _pleasantly _surprised when aliens were jumping off the all sides of it. I was about to blow it up when I heard a blood-curdling scream to my left that stood out more than any of the others. A small girl was running away from a group of aliens that must've slipped by me when I was ogling the leviathan. I didn't even think as I jumped down from the building, using my powers to soften the landing, and ran towards her. The head of the alien closest to the girl blew up before I even raised my hand and I stood in front of the girl to protect her. I raised my hand and another 3 were dead. More and more kept barreling down the street though, and it was becoming harder to fend them off. They probably saw me as one of their bigger concerns, since I could easily take them out, but not so many at a time. I still didn't wasn't to be discovered or branded as a mutant, so I wasn't going to take the risk of making a larger explosion. The aliens were running at me, and it seemed like there were just hundreds of them trying to attack at once. Luckily the girl found a safe place to hide, or else she might be dead meat with me. I got completely overwhelmed with the sheer mass of them surrounding me so I started using bigger outbursts to my displeasure, but I might've been too late. I knew there were ones coming up from behind me, but the ones in front of me were closer. I had finally made a dent in the aliens ahead of me when I felt like I had been stabbed trough my stomach. I screamed out in pain and grabbed my midsections, but nothing was there. I looked behind me and I saw an alien with its spear out, but it didn't stab me- it stabbed Sierra. I let out a puff of air in sudden disbelief and devastating sadness. I quickly made a huge explosion, burning my sleeves off in the process, killing all surrounding aliens and sounding off with a deafening boom before rushing to Sierra's side on the ground. There was blood escaping from her mouth and it was sadly obvious she was going to die. She gave me a watery smile as a tear dropped down my face.

"That one asshole was just too close for safety." She said quietly to me. I looked at the alien that stabbed her and saw a steak knife between its shoulder blades.

"You saw the future, didn't you? You saw one of us dying and tried to change it?" I asked her sadly. She shook her head.

"We were both going to die in the original future, but you had more to live for." She answered. No, I'm not worth it, she should've saved herself. Before I could speak she put something in my hand- a small, folded piece of paper. "Read this as soon as you can. When I made my decision to change the future, I saw the new one play out and this note is going to save you and 23 others. Promise me- promise me you'll read it." She told me, gasping towards the end. She maybe had a minute left. Tears relentlessly fell down my cheeks in silent sobs as I watched her go.

"Ripley, will you sing for me?" She asked, sounding scared. I nodded sorrowfully and quickly thought of a song.

_"A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain_

_Softly blows over Lullaby Bay_

_It fills the sails of boats that are waiting_

_Waiting to sail your worries away_

I watched her eyes droop and her breathing slow. The stabbing pain in my stomach started to decrease, signaling that she was slipping from reality.

_It isn't far to Hushabye Mountain_

_And your boat waits down by the key_

_The winds of night so softly are sighing_

_Soon they will fly your troubles to sea_

_So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain_

_Wave goodbye to cares of the day_

_And watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain_

_Sail far away from Lullaby Bay"_

She died before I finished the song. I couldn't turn my emotions off or push my best friend's death to the side. I cried, no _wailed, _in the middle of the street holding her corpse and rocking slowly. I'm sure people thought I was insane, just staying there in the middle of an alien invasion but none of it fazed me. I sobbed until there was nothing left and I was numb. I picked her body up bridal style and walked to the café doors, stumbling a bit at my exhaustion. My last explosion broke all the glass doors and windows in the block and I could see several faces staring at me. I ignored it and walked through the busted door and over the shards of glass before laying her gently on the floor beside the bar. I scooted my back down the wall, sitting beside her feet and hesitantly opening the crumpled letter she gave me.

_Ripley_

_I don't have much time to write this, so I'll be very blunt. In two days you will be taken by a foundation called the M.D.D.P. They catch mutants like you and me and keep them in cells inside a facility 60 miles outside of New York. One of their workers saw you fending off the aliens and relayed the information to his boss. You have to let them take you. I know you won't want to, but there are 23 other mutants in that building and you're the only one that can save them. _

_Your power isn't a curse. Though your means of discovering it were dark, you have and will only use it for good. Don't let them hold you back anymore; it's your life- take advantage of it. _

_P.S- There's also a shard of glass in your foot. Mind tricks are fun._

_ Sierra _

I looked down at my foot and saw that her vision was right; a large two-inch shard of glass was sticking out of the arch of my foot. I tried pulling it out and really started to feel the pain. I flinched back, but gritted my teeth and quickly pulled on it. I threw the shard across the room and ripped a strip of cloth from my shirt to tie around my bleeding foot. I looked at Sierra's unmoving body on the ground, almost studying it. I wish I could just talk to her about the letter, talk to her about anything, but she's laying dead in front of me. A few more tears fall down my face, but I have to keep going. I push myself up, hoping on one leg back outside. When I got to the broken glass I flew over it, deciding that I was going to be taken anyway and that I didn't really care if people watched me anymore. If I had just stopped worrying so much about _myself _and stopped pitying _myself_ Sierra would be alive. Once outside people continued to stare at me wide-eyed at what I did. I felt an overwhelming feeling of helplessness for the second time in my life; the person who would kidnap me for their agency was one of the people staring at me. And I could do absolutely nothing about it. I took a good look at all of them; some of them looked at me with shock, others with hatred because of what I was. I remained silent, fighting off my urge to change the future, and flew back to the top of café, resuming to destroy as many aliens as I could.

An hour later the battle came to an end. I watched as Iron Man flew into the black hole causing all the aliens to fall. A leviathan landed upside down on the top of a building beside me, weird flying 'chariots' crashed to the ground and the remaining aliens collapsed like everything had been turned off. I was beaten. Although I had only been standing and blowing things up it was like someone had drained all the energy from me. When I walked to the back off the roof, the side that dropped down to where I put my shoes, I almost fainted flying down. I slowly tucked my shoes back on and stumbled through the rubble back inside the café. Sliding down in a booth the screams of relief quickly became a lullaby and I prayed that this was only a twisted nightmare before I fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys:)**

**My authors note will be short because I really don't have any announcements to make. The next chapter may be a little late, but that's why I was posting this one a little early. Hopefully it should be out sooner than I think it will, probably because they'll be pretty auctioned packed;3**

**Thank you to everyone who's favorite, followed, reviewed and read Home. If you guys have any questions, comments or suggestions leave them in the review section and I promise to answer them in the next AN.**

**Disclaimer: Oh god, I can't even imagine the chaos if I owned Marvel. There'd be so many shipped characters…**

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><p>I jolted awake when I heard the broken glass by the door being stepped on. I raised my hands and looked behind me, ready to kill but seeing the 'threat' was only police and paramedics. I looked for Sierra but found only a pool of blood where I laid her. I assumed they had already pulled her out, but it was the first question I asked them anyway. They told me they had taken all recovered dead bodies to the hospital and funeral homes so they could identify any that were unknown and prep the others for burial. I was depressed by how many people probably died and how many families would be grieving, but was glad the invasion wasn't as bad as it could have easily been. The paramedics took me to an ambulance to check me over, only finding my cut foot and wrapping it. I thanked them and limped awkwardly back to the shelter since the adrenaline keeping my leg and foot at ease was wearing off. When I got around the block and hoards of people and ambulances, I found a pathetic pile of rumble where the shelter was. Of course, hundreds of buildings that were in ruins, but I was praying that my current residence made it through the hell storm. Unfortunately life has a <em>great<em> sense of humor and can be a bitch at all times including the last month of my life.

So, to sum it all up, my best friend died, I'm going to be kidnapped, I have to figure out a way to save over 20 people that I don't know and have no clue how to do, and the incredible, growing pain I have in my thigh and foot will have to go untreated. Oh, and all my clothes and sketches are gone. I sighed and muttered a few choice words before awkwardly stumbling right back to the café for the night. And the next night, depending on my situation. News reporters were around every single corner, witnesses talking about how such-and-such happened or how someone saved them; same exact story every time. Bodies of dead aliens were still scattered in most places along with the harder to move objects like giant chunks of concrete and leviathans. People were crying tears of joy, huddled around their family, and others were tears of devastation around the death of a loved one. It was a definite war zone, and would without a doubt be the most known war for years to come. I was almost at the café again when I saw some more of the strange jets I saw before shit hit the fan and assumed they were here for the cleanup. Apparently it was S.H.I.E.L.D, and the people that saved us were now 'The Avengers'. You didn't have to watch the news for that one, all you had to do was look at any sort of building that stayed standing. Iron Man, Hulk, Hawkeye, Black Widow and Captain America were the main faces around town, but I saw one painting that stood out. No one had seen her before, and no one knew her name, but she was one of them- and apparently she was a mutant. That also explains why there was only one picture of her, but she was an Avenger nonetheless. I was happy to know that I certainly wasn't alone, that someone else understood. In this world, if someone was a mutant they often had the same experience I did- arrested, abandoned or killed.

Once inside the café again it was getting dark outside. I was still tired from past events but almost didn't want to sleep from the cheers outside. People were celebrating, coming together again. I knew that that was always a sign of something traumatic ending, but it amazing to see. People were setting off their fireworks they had for the Fourth of July, there was singing in the street, and no one was genuinely fighting with each other; and even though everyone's homes and businesses were in ruins they were happy. It had its effect on me as well- with everything that just happened and will happen, it made me forget for just a moment. I pulled two booths together and made them into a makeshift bed for the night before trying to make myself comfortable. It felt like I was sleeping on the edge of a cliff, but I didn't have to worry about it for long as I slowly drifted.

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><p><em>"So, we learned about Chlamydia in health today." I said, sitting at the lunch table.<em>

_"Oh, that really fuels my appetite, Roy." Megan said sarcastically. I laughed and sat down beside her. We ate our 'food', really just a bunch of questionable choices on a plate, and talked about what's happening in our classes. Our lives were pretty habitual at lunch, but we didn't mind- we went through years of trial and error to find that this was what we liked best. Today wasn't exactly the same though, because when I dumped my tray someone dumped their tray onto __**me.**__ Milk, baked beans, dressing with two leaves of lettuce and a burnt piece of cardboard disguised as pizza landed on my back, leaving a gross trail of slop down the back of my shirt and pants. _

_"What the hell?!" I said, turning around. In front of me stood Christian Hanson, shit eating grin on his face, though expressing a mock apology._

_"Oh, sorry, I thought you were the trash can." He said in a cocky tone. I said nothing. This bastard had been annoying the shit out of me since I had the unfortunate luck of being placed in the same grade as him. Now, I am the 'goody-two-shoes' of the school, although that really just meant I had common sense about situations, but this didn't stop me from smiling fondly at him before reeling my arm back and punching in the nose as hard as I could. I felt a sickening crunch under my fist and even though I knew I'd be wrongfully suspended for a few days, I was happy. _

_Christian held his nose and scoffed at my actions. The whole cafeteria was silent and I could just hear someone run for the teachers. I saw blood start to leak from his hands and I smirked._

_"Why don't you check in the mirror before you call someone else trash." I said before walking to the office for my punishment._

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><p>What a <em>great dream.<em> I woke up unavoidably pissed because of my memory of that moment. I was suspended for a week my sophomore year because of that little stunt. I slowly slid off the booth seats and stretched out the painful kinks in my back. I had a day of freedom left, and I planned on completely making bad choices. I walked outside, grabbing the cash I had left in my pocket. A whole $20; in NYC it might as well been a $5. I sighed and limped to the nearest McDonalds, hoping to find something that'll have just enough grease and American essence to make me feel a bit better. Of course, most places still standing were pretty far away, but seeing as I had nothing better to do I went anyway. Surprised to find that they were actually serving food, although no one was in their uniform, I entered and went to the cashier. I was waiting for my order of a steak, egg and cheese bagel with three hash browns when I heard the news; it was July 3.

I guess the last day I get to spend outside of a cell will be on my 19th birthday. Awesome.

I sighed and grabbed my order, hobbling out of the store and back to somewhere I wouldn't be disturbed. So I found myself eating my junk food on top of a half-demolished skyscraper. It was beautiful outside and the emptiness of most of the city was great. I quickly got tired of the over-crowdedness of New York and this was as close to silence and isolation I've gotten to in the last month.

When I was done eating I looked to see if anyone would be able to see me. Seeing no one was around I shot off into the air, going absolutely nowhere in particular, but it felt great to get out some tension. I made my way around the state, even flying out to the ocean. I flew down, almost touching the water, before shooting across it, leaving a mist behind me. The flames and small sparks emitting off of me burned my shirt into a tank-top and my pants into shorts but I didn't care. I was thinking of things to do to waste time and distract myself when I thought of an older promise I made. I flew back to New York, but kept going further. By time I was in Indiana it was only around 1:00 p.m, so I stopped by Megan's house when I saw that the only car there was Megan's. We both lived out in the country, so I just landed by her doorstep and hesitantly knocked on the door. I heard muffled steps come from in the house and a minute later Megan was standing in front of me.

"Who are you?" She asked, sounding almost infuriated. I furrowed my brows, but answered anyway.

"Uh, Ripley?" I said, questioning her. She just got angrier and it was etched over her face.

"She died a month ago. _Why are you here?"_ Damn, she was scary like this. I quickly thought of something to say that only I and she would know.

"To my dismay you sang Smash Mouth's _Allstar _every single time we were alone for a year and when I told anyone you denied it." I said bluntly. Her eyes grew wide in surprise.

"They said you were dead." She explained, pulling me inside.

"I mean I did sell my soul for immortality quite a few millennia ago, but I mean _technically_…" I joked, but was cut off when she crushed me in a hug.

"Life was pretty shitty without you, you know?" She said gripping me tighter.

"Well, I can't really stay for long but I don't plan on wasting it."

"What do you mean 'can't stay for long', and why are your clothes all burnt?"

"It depends on when your parents are getting back home and I'll explain the other things later- speaking of which, how long will we be alone here?"

"My parents are at work; mom sent me a text saying she wouldn't be home till late and dad's never home till 7:00, so we got a while." I nodded and went to her fridge, looking for what will inevitably be there; chocolate Snack Packs. I grabbed two, along with spoons, and headed to the couch. I ripped mine open and practically attacked it, receiving a very judgmental look from Megan.

"I have been on a diet of McDonalds and the poorer equivalent of school food for weeks, this is heaven." I said, talking through the chocolaty deliciousness. She laughed and sat beside me, opening hers and plopping her feet onto the coffee table. I had missed this so much; although I loved Sierra just as much as I did Megan, we just had more shared memories.

"So, they said I died? How?"

"Well, your parents had an interview on the news and said that you killed Jackson and committed suicide at the hospital, but by the way your face has contorted that's pretty far off." She was right- any remaining shred of fondness towards my parents was obliterated.

"Yeah, well did they say how I 'killed him'?" I asked. She shook her head, so I set down my now emptied pudding cup.

"The night it hit the fan, Jackson came in after I was leaving and asked me out. Obviously I said no after the several years of 'douchbagery' he gave pretty much everyone he thought was beneath him, but he didn't take it too well." I inhaled heavily to try and calm myself down and continued on. "He got me down on the ground with a blade to my neck-" I showed her the thing scar that was left- "and he- I had to wait for the right moment to get free, but I had to wait longer than I hoped." I said, not wanting to go into detail about it. "Well, I made my escape that ended with a knife cutting my thigh in half but this happened-" I raised my hand, making a small ball of smoke and fire, sparks flying in all directions. She gasped, but was more awed than disgusted.

"So, yeah, I was taken to the hospital where I promptly fainted. When I woke up the next morning I saw a bunch of weird military people coming for me. And, being the smart one I am, jumped out the window, flew back to my house, got my stuff, and went to NYC." I concluded, snapping my hand shut and making the ball dissipate.

"Well, you've been busy. What have you been doing in New York then?"

"I found a homeless shelter, met another mutant, got a job and _fought in a goddamn alien invasion._ It was pretty badass if I do say so myself." I said, folding my arms and raising my head in mock victory.

"Wow, you are just _too cool for school."_ She replied sarcastically. "So what's the other thing, why can't you stay for long?"

"I made plans to be kidnapped."

"Alright, wiseass, what's the real reason?" She said, laughing. I just stared at her, waiting to see when it'd click. It only took a moment.

"_Are you batshit insane?!_ What does that even mean?!" I sighed and stretched out on the couch.

"It means…. It means exactly what you think it does. The mutant I met in New York, she was at the same shelter I was in and we became friends. I learned that she was an empath, a telepath and could see the future. We bonded over our out-casting by our family, but a few weeks before the attack she saw something in the future that she didn't want to happen, so she- she sacrificed herself so it wouldn't. When the future changed by her decision, she wrote down what would happen now and it was kidnapping. She said that tomorrow I'll be taken by some agency and have to figure out how to get 24 people, myself included, out." I said solemnly. She looked at me with sad eyes and I remembered that I didn't come here to be sad. I smiled devilishly as an idea popped into my mind.

"So, do you feel like making a quick run back home? I want to collect my birthday gift from my parents."

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><p>Half an hour later we were running from my old house, tears in our eyes from laughing, with $200 dollars in our grasp. We climbed into Megan's car and booked it back towards town.<p>

"So, where should we go first?" She asked me, speeding up.

"Well, what's the best way to blow money?"

One Hour Later…

"But why a_ My Little Pony_ character?" Megan whined beside me.

"Because that's how I want you to remember me. Besides, your ass is a _Rarity." _Oh yes, I looked up _My Little Pony _names and made her get a tattoo of one. On her left ass cheek. Meanwhile, I was getting a giant "Dy-no-mite" on my right cheek, because of my mutation, which she picked out. Oh, by the way, getting a tattoo on your ass is not only embarrassing but also pretty uncomfortable. The end result though was better than expected. The words looked well written and there seemed to be no flaws in the red and black lettering. The 3-D aspect also gave it a bit of aesthetic appeal, but I can't say as much for Megan's. Her pony looked pristine, but the sad fact of having one on her body forever seemed to be pretty shitty for her, but the tattoo artists and myself included were just laughing non-stop.

"Oh ha-ha-ha. At least I gave you something _kinda _cool…. If you watched _Good Times….._"

"Megan, that show was from the 70's. It's funny to us because we both liked it, but no one else will get it. See, for you all you have to do is find a brony that's willing to date you and you'll be fine." I said, laughing at the sour look she gave me. Our tattoos were finished soon after that and we painfully pulled our pants back on and paid for the service. We left the parlor happy though, considering what we just spent our money on. Driving back to her parent's house, I noticed that the sun was starting to go down and I would have to return back to New York soon. We pulled in the driveway, thankfully her parents weren't home yet, and I slowly got out of the car.

"I- I've gotta go back." I said hesitantly. Megan's smile quickly faded off her face and she walked over to me.

"I have no idea what to say, and I don't know how to relate with you because I'm not going through what you are, but whatever happens in there don't let it affect you." She told me seriously. I nodded and was glad that she was always here for me.

"Thank you for being the person I could always talk to for all the years of my life." I said, pulling her into a hug. I solemnly pulled away and backed away from her so I could take off. I remembered our little inside joke for when we'd say goodbye and smirked.

"I'll send you a postcard from the nursing home." I told her, a faint lightheartedness in my voice. She laughed and smiled back at me.

"Just don't forget to change your Depends every night." She replied. I smiled sadly and flew off into the air, heading to my unwanted future.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey Guys:)**

**Sorry about the lateness of this chapter, but like most people's week mine was pretty hectic. And although it's currently midnight here, I wanted to post this as a 'technically' Christmas gift:) As always, leave any questions, comments and suggestions in the review section and I promise to answer them in the next AN. Thank you to everybody who's favorites, followed, and reviewed Home, you guys are the bomb-diggity;)**

**Disclaimer: Marvel- I am not the droid you are looking for.**

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><p>I still had a dull, throbbing ache around most of my body, specifically my leg, but was more concentrated on my presumably last meeting with Megan. I had missed her so much over the time I was gone, but was glad to get to see her once more before I was taken. I arrived in New York around 2:00 a.m. and decided just to fly straight to the café, considering people were after me anyways. I hit the ground with a muffled thud before walking into the broken store and pulling out the booths. Lying down on my make-shift bed I realized that this was probably the coziest bed I'd have for a while, assuming that my captors would be of the stereotypical type. And with that thought I was left reeling through my mind for an hour, sleep never touching me. I moved my feet from off of the booths and decided to go for a walk, hoping it'd exhaust me enough that I just passed out anyway. I worked my way up and down the streets for more than two hours, somehow managing not to get lost, looking at all the damage done to the city. Many buildings looked like half of them were blown off, others were completely demolished, and the lucky ones maybe had a chunk or two missing. The citizens had managed to get the roads mostly cleared off, but every block or two you saw a reminder of the battle- blood. They weren't the vibrant red stains you see in movies but large, dark splotches looking like tar at night. I hated seeing Sierra bleed out in front of me for saving my life, and the small mementos on the street brought my mind back to that moment over and over again, like a skipping CD. All the anxiety I had for the next day and now my memories of death made me physically sick so I had to compromise a smelly dumpster for a toilet, although I didn't care. Tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes, but it was mainly due to stress and the fact I was reliving every meal I've had in the last day. I shakily straightened myself up and leaned against the brick wall across from me. The good thing was I was thoroughly exhausted. The bad thing was that the café was a few miles from where I was at. I gave up caring about sleeping on booths and slid my way down to the cold asphalt. Curling into a ball, my consciousness faded from me quickly and I was out before my head even hit the ground.<p>

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><p>'<em>Ow! Shit, did someone just kick me in the stomach?! What the hell?' <em>I thought, groaning as I started to wake up.

"Hey, hey lady!" I could just tell already this kid was a dumbass. I held back my urge to punch him square in the dick and got on my hands and knees, still tired and shaky from last night.

"_What do you want?"_ I asked, fire burning in my voice. My head hung down so I could focus on something other than this piece of shit.

"Yeah, there's these things called _shelters. _They have things you need, like showers, or better clothes." The kid answered idiotically. I slowly stood up, looking at him square in the eyes. He was probably 16, and from the snarky look on his face I assumed mommy and daddy never gave him a well-deserved kick in the ass.

Oh well, gotta learn sometime- and I had no problem with teaching _that_ lesson.

"Alright _prick, _you had no reason for walking your stupid ass over here, so I can only conclude you got everything you wanted in life without question and think you can do anything you want with no consequences. That and your IQ is probably around the same number of fucks I give about your opinion. That being said, I'm going to save you some time and tell you that when you pull shit like the kind you just pulled on me in the real world someone's going to punch you in the face. And considering how incredibly thick your skull most likely is, it might take quite a few hits for you to get that message. Why don't you take that wonderful insight I just gave you and go the fuck away." His jaw was practically hanging on the ground when I got done talking. His expression though quickly turned to rage and he looked like he was going to burst.

"Listen here, bitch; you- AH!" He started, but screamed when he realized both of his pant legs were on fire. He hastily ran away on one leg, swatting the other to put out the fire. I smirked and adjusted my clothes before walking back out into the streets, looking around to see if anyone looked suspicious. Seeing that I was alone I walked out without hesitation, deciding to just walk until _something _happened. It was almost noon since the sun was in the middle of the sky, which means I got almost 7 hours of sleep. And I wasted half the day. I decided to walk back to the demolished shelter since I was tired of the café and it was the only other place I really knew. I strolled anxiously down the unusually empty roads and eventually found the ones familiar to me, but the closer I got to my destination the more paranoid I got. I walked by a store that still had an unbroken glass panel and saw there was a man clad in all black maybe 100 feet behind me. He was the only one there. My breathing was rapidly increasing and I told myself to stick to the open areas, although with the streets as barren as they are now, it might not make a difference. My pace was getting faster, hurting my thigh and foot where it was cut, but I wasn't going to slow down for anything. I got closer to the shelter but I felt almost suffocated by the fear of being taken. I passed another window- the man was only 50 feet behind me.

I was almost jogging now.

A spare glass shard from a mirror showed him only 25 feet away.

I sped up more, my wounds acting up in protest.

His reflection off the fender of a car placed him 5 feet behind me. I looked back frantically, but he was gone. I stopped dead in my trails, searching for the man again, but it was like he vanished into thin air. There was silence all around me; the only sound was my heavy breathing. I took a weary step backwards, about to pivot on my foot when a rag was placed over my face- a very sweet smelling rag. A few choice words slipped past my lips before my vision faded to black and I dropped to the ground.

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><p>It's weird; when you're knocked out cold like that, you can almost feel what's being done to your body, like an extra sense or something. I felt myself be tossed into a vehicle, removed from said vehicle, and placed on a hard, cement floor. This passed by in what felt like a few seconds to me but must've been hours in real life. I finally started coming to again after a while, but the first coherent thought I had was '<em>why can't I open my eyes?' <em>I knew I had to be opening them, but my vision was still black. Everything felt like jelly, but a faint throbbing pain all around my head that was growing more and more as I the haze I was in withered away. I crawled into a seated position, starting to panic that I still couldn't see. I reached a hand up to my face to see if I was blindfolded and received a large shock that made my whole arm lose complete feeling.

'_You probably shouldn't do that again.' _I froze- that wasn't my thought.

_'No, it was mine.' _The same voice answered again.

_'Wha- Why are you in my head?!' _ I asked frantically.

_'Well there was no other means of communication around. In case you were wondering, that little shock did come from a blindfold, but it's also covering your ears. Oh, and it's electrified.' _The deeper voice informed me. I was assuming that the person the voice belonged to was a he and was also a telepath.

_'Pretty observant for a newly blind person.'_ He replied sarcastically.

_'Hey, they're my thoughts, not yours. Besides, we're in the same hell hole and I'm supposed to be working on a way to get out, but this stupid thing just set me back quite a bit.'_

_'Yeah, good luck with that. No one's ever escaped and anyone who tried was either beaten into submission or made into an experiment.' _

_'Well aren't you just a ray of sunshine. Anyway, I knew another mutant before I came here who could see the future and she told me that I'd save 23 people from this place.'_

_'Your friend was wrong.'_ He said, almost absentmindedly.

_'And how did you come up with that reasoning?'_

_'There's 50 of us here.' _What?

_'No, she had to be right. She saw the attack of New York coming. She saw her death coming. She saw I was going to be taken today, she __**has**__ to be right.' _I replied confusedly. I had a feeling I knew what that meant though, and it made my stomach flip.

I was about to answer back when two hands gripped each one of my arms.

_'Hey! Wait, where are they taking me? What's going on?!'_

_'They're taking you to the prep room. Okay, don't resist and don't speak. They're going to get rid of your clothes and give you a sterilization shower and it sucks but do __**not **__go against it. Most of us had to learn that lesson the hard way and it wasn't worth the lashings.' _He told me seriously.

_'Lashings?! They whipped yo- Ah! What's that?' _I asked as I felt something cold and hard being placed around my wrists.

_'They're shackles and they're going to hang your arms up by a hook so they can cut off your clothes. Try not to focus on it.' _He told me. I felt my arms be forced up, the chain in-between the shackles being suspended and holding me there.

_'That's a little hard right now.' _I said, feeling sick.

_'This isn't what you want to hear right now, but it's going to get worse. The first thing you have to give up if you want to stay sane is your dignity. You have to accept it.' _It was hard, but I understood his argument and knew he was right. I felt the cold metal of a knife be pressed against my back and legs and I tensed up, but tried to think of anything else.

'_Is anyone else blindfolded like I am?' _I asked as the blades made their way around my body.

_'Not in the Commons. There are around 40 others in here and all the cells are only separated by bars, so you can talk. In the Labs though everyone is strapped down and blindfolded. They put the mutants that've tried to escape there- the ones that threaten the agency. Everyone else is put Isolation, where they keep the people that has done something against the agency.' _He explained to me. I shivered when all my clothes were completely stripped from me. One of the guards prodded at my scar, pulling at one of the sides. I bit my tongue to suppress a groan.

_'What did they do to them? In the Labs?' _I was scared of the answer.

_'They mold them like Play-Doh, do anything and everything they want to them.' _He answered with hate. Freezing cold water began to spray onto me with heavy force, stinging my skin. That makes it even worse for me now. If I was going to pull this off, it would have to be in one try. The perfect plan.

The water turned off and I was dropped to the floor. I felt clothing be thrown onto my legs as I blindly stood up.

_'Put on the clothes quickly. You have to do everything quickly around here.'_

_'That's going to be a bit tough considering I'm down to three senses and only one of them helps me put on clothes.' _I said, searching for a shirt.

_'They don't care. To them it's just another excuse to beat another mutant. They're just begging for the chance.' _His voice wasn't angry this time, but more honest- maybe sad. I was able to put on my shirt easy enough and I looked for underwear, finding none. Okay, I was expecting no bra, but no underwear.

_'They really make you feel at home, don't they?' _I asked sarcastically.

_'Oh, just wait until you've had the same meal of mush for a year. Makes school food taste like a delicacy.' _He told me. My lips jerked up faintly as I drudged on my pants. From what I could tell I was wearing a thick, long sleeve shirt and sweats, probably making me look _very_ fashionable. As soon as I was dressed again I was shoved out of the room and back into the cell, feeling vibrations on the floor as something large, probably a door, was shut behind me. I clenched my fist, hating that I couldn't see- couldn't hear, and held up my arms so I could find a wall.

_'Your 2:00, 3 steps.' _ I walked slowly to my right, reaching the wall and sitting down.

_'Thank you. What's your name?' _I felt disrespectful not calling him anything.

_'Jacob- like the one in the Twilight love triangle.'_ I smiled genuinely.

_'Ripley- most people just called me Roy, though.' _

_'Why Roy?'_

_'I'm big into quotes and memorizing things like that, and my favorite quote of all time is Roy Batty's final words in Blade Runner.'_

_'Well Roy, welcome to your new home….'_


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys:)**

**Thank you to all the people who favorite, followed and reviewed Home, it makes my cold, bitter soul just a bit warmer every time:) **

**No announcements this chapter other than I hope you all had happy holidays:) **

**If you have questions, comments or suggestions leave them in the review section and I promise to answer them in the next AU**

**Disclaimer: Whatcha gonna do Marvel, sue me? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA please don't sue me…..**

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><p>3 Weeks Later<p>

_'Are you sure it doesn't say 'penis'? The assholes working here seem pretty suspicious.'_

_'Yes, Roy. Surprisingly enough I can actually read. I'm just going to key in my final answer of 8329B. And only one letter away from having the same one I do.' _

_'You're positive it's not in comic sans or wingdings or some shit?' _I was just giving him a hard time at this point. My mission must've been a success because I heard a frustrated grunt in the back of my head telling me that he was beyond hopeless.

I had gotten a tattoo of my 'new name' an hour ago along with a shot that was supposed to slow down my hormones for a few years. Since then I have been asking Jacob the most _useless _questions I could. It's not like we had much to talk about anyway. In the dark you forget things because you can't see them, or hear them, so I honestly couldn't remember much of anything without trying for a few minutes. Mainly we talked about our escape plan, which there wasn't one, and joked around about things like this. I mean, only if we had time out of our busy schedule of doing absolutely nothing.

Everything has changed- mainly my definitions for grateful and good. For example; outside of this hell hole I'd be ungrateful for bucket to do my business in. Now I'm just grateful that it's not just a random corner. In the better world it would be good to get a warm meal; in here it's good to get cold, lumpy mush just once a day. Everything is 'just' now. Just enough food to live, just enough clothes to wear, just enough heat so you don't die from hypothermia, just enough anything so long as it keeps you breathing, but that's it. I remember for our senior year in high school we were assigned a research paper on dehumanization- I never thought I'd live it.

My time-table of days is strange- living in darkness makes everything seem long, but in retrospect seems short. Jacob tells me it's been 21 days since I've arrived, but it feels like it's been years _and_ feels like it's been only a few days as well. I've had 3 'showers' the whole time I was here, if you count cold water from what feels like a power-sprayer 'showers'. Along with showers I get a new change of sweats and a shirt before being shoved back to my cell. Another thing I'm grateful for is that I'm not taken advantage of since I can't see. Or hear.

It makes me feel insane sometimes. When Jacob is taken in for testing or is asleep when I'm awake, I feel like I'm crazy. I have completely forgotten what anyone looks like, including myself. I usually feel my arms and legs when I can't remember what my body even looks like. When Jacob talks to me though the feeling goes away slightly. He tells me that it'll pass, that it's temporary but I don't believe him. I have to spend my time planning an escape, although I can never make up a solid solution. I can't just steal a master key from a guard because I know I'd just mess it up one way or another. I've thought of just using my powers and blowing a way out of here, but since I can't see or hear I'd have no idea if I'd be blowing up a person or a wall. It makes me want to give up. It makes me want to do something stupid to a guard and get myself killed, put me out of my helplessness. But I can't. Maybe it's just the small voice in my head telling me to do it for Sierra, or Megan, or Jacob talking me out of it himself I can't tell at this point, but the voice always wins. So I keep planning.

Other than the sitting around, or the occasional _standing around_, we're taken in for testing once every two weeks. Jacob was taken in on the same day I was when I was first tested, so unlucky me had no idea what they wanted. The answer was blow something up, by the way. When I didn't perform to their liking, my shirt was swiftly cut off and I received 10 lashes. It was a like a punch in the face compared to when my thigh was cut in half, but that doesn't mean it was pleasant or that it still doesn't hurt. Jacob was done being tested in the other room and when he started talking to me again he realized what happened and told me what to do. I apparently demolished a steel table in the middle of the room, but I didn't feel like I'd break that much with as little force I used. They accepted it though, and sent me back to my room where I could feel my new shirt being soaked through with blood. My immune system was probably pretty shitty at that point, but I prayed hard that the cuts didn't get infected. Apparently someone was listening because the only thing I got from them was just a few more jagged scars to add to the collection. When I was younger I really wanted scars so I could look cool or whatever- I was really naïve.

Coming to this place made me realize how naïve I really was. I was talking to Jacob about this place and we got on the subject of everyone else. I didn't know how evil and twisted people truly were until he told me that the youngest person they had here was 7.

7 years old.

Her name is Claudia and she can manipulate matter, at least a little bit. Jacob and I talk to her a lot, since she's only a cell away. Jacob interprets our messages to one another and we just try to make her laugh and forget about this place for a while. They didn't give her much food. I would try and give her some of Jacob and mine's, but Jacob said it may still not be enough. All newcomers that came to the M.D.D.P, aka The Mutant Detection and Detainment Program, dropped pounds faster than you can imagine. When I was trying to lose weight a few years ago I was hungry when I ate less, but I never knew how hungry a person could get until now, let alone thirsty. It also didn't help that I didn't want to eat or drink anything because I couldn't see it. This place was getting overrated quickly.

* * *

><p>4 Months Later<p>

The 'insanity attacks' I had were finally starting to decrease in how often they came, but now I had the struggle of time. It's like I'm always sleeping, but never waking up and never having an empty and peaceful mind. My mind is mostly full of dullness, acceptance of facts, but on the other hand fierce determination- the escape. Jacob had been testing me on the dimensions of the Commons, where they kept all the non-experiment mutants, and it was terrible. I walked the length of my cell, feeling the cold, iron bars that kept me from freedom so I could memorize the length and know where to place my explosions. Essentially I had to make the perfect mental picture.

Without being able to see or hear. Fuck. Me.

So far I had the size of each individual cell down, which was 5'x7'x9', and the way the cells are laid out- which, unfortunately for me, was a circle. There are 2 foot wide steel doors in the backs of every cell and the only thing separating all of the prisoners were long, iron bars with an inch and a half space between them. I knew that even though I could easily blow off my metal blindfold, but I didn't want the guards to know. They had an electrokenetic a few months before I came, and he was originally taken in for that fact. They didn't know that he could also teleport, and when he tried to escape he was immediately put in the Labs- thusly being made into a test rat. Not necessarily what I want in my future.

As I was going over these factors in my head I felt the familiar vibration of the door being opened. But it wasn't in my cell.

_'J, who's cell was that?' _

_'Claudia's.' _He answered, sounding sick.

_'They're testing her again, why? They just tested her a few days ago.' _I asked worriedly.

_'I don't know, they've never done that before. I'm trying to see, but I can barely read her mind.' _I waited for a moment before talking to Jacob, but he didn't respond.

_'Jacob?' _I asked after another minute. Nothing.

_'Jacob!'_

_'She can't do it!' _He screamed in my mind. I had never heard him so panicked in my time here.

'_Wait, what does that mean, what's happening?!' _

_'They don't think she's worth keeping, she can't do what they ask- No!' _As soon as he got the sentence out it felt like my mind was being split in two. I fell to the floor, curling into a ball and hugged my hands to my chest, not being able to touch head without being electrocuted. I could hear Jacob shouting in my thoughts, and it sounded like his pain was worse than mine.

_'Jacob! Jacob, get out of her head!' _I tried telling to him, but I didn't get any answer. His cries were only getting worse, along with the pain in my head, and I decided to ruin my plans- I blew up the blindfold. If you've ever gotten on to your phone after sleeping and it's like light from heaven itself is beaming directly into your pupils, yeah take that and multiply it by 20. I thought I was going to be permanently blinded from the pure intensity of the blinding white I saw. Once it started to fade to the point where I could partially squint I could see into the small cell beside me, where Jacob was currently on his knees and clawing at his head. I raised my hand and took out 5 bars, enough so that I could crawl through the space. I was so weak- with the food portions and my brain feeling like it was melting crawling 5 feet was like running a marathon. As soon as I was in reaching distance of Jacob, though, I rolled him over onto his back, trying to get him to snap out of it. He finally responded to my touch, but he was only half-way conscious of what was going on. I couldn't do anything- I didn't know what to do, anyways, so I held his hands and stayed beside him until it passed. We were so poor looking. Both of us were skin and bones, and from what I could make out of the reflection on the floor I was just as pale as he was. I spent a few minutes by his side, both of us still in pain from the outburst, and before I even realized it he fainted. I checked his pulse to make sure he hadn't died, and as I felt the subtle thump in his wrist I could hear the door opening from Claudia's cell. And I saw why Jacob had said what he did.

They threw in her limp, mangled and broken body onto the floor with a sickening thud. There was no shadow of a doubt that they had killed her, just beat her to death, although in our state it wouldn't take long. I was paralyzed at the sight of her lying dead on the ground, blood still seeping from her shirt. I stared in horror, short, ragged gasps breaking from my lips and warm tears falling from my eyes. I didn't notice one of the guards come in behind me until I felt the butt-end of his gun connect with the back of my head.

When I woke up I was hanging by my shackles in the middle of a room, but they had left my blindfold off. Oh, joy they took off my shirt again too- I can only imagine what that means. My assumptions were confirmed as I watched a short, professional-looking woman walk in the room with another man who was carrying a whip.

"So, you seem to have made friends with 8329C, but yet you haven't spoken a word to him." The woman said, her voice never faltering.

"His name is Jacob, by the way. And the girl you just had _murdered_- her name was Claudia." I said, filled with hatred. My throat ached from not using it in three months. I must've struck a chord because she looked at me like a back-handed her.

"You are to receive 20 lashes for your actions and locked in Isolation for a year." She almost shouted at me. She left the room as the guard came up to me with the blindfold I knew so well. He secured in on my head and with a few clicks the faint whir of electricity was returned to it. I was so angry. Angry that _bitch _just put me back at least another year, angry that I was going to go insane in a metal container, and _so fucking livid _that they killed a seven year old because she didn't meet their standards for being a _prisoner_. The lashings began and I screamed bloody murder- not out of pain but out of rage. I counted all twenty lashes and embraced the pain trying to get my mind off of everything else. They took me off the hook and dragged me, still topless and bleeding, to Isolation in the back of the facility. I must've been halfway there when I felt the familiar sense of Jacob entering my mind.

_'Roy, where are they taking you?' _He asked, sounding worried.

_'Oh, you know, just the one year trip to Isolation. Why, what's up with you?' _I questioned sarcastically.

_'They're giving me something that's degrading my powers; I won't be able to talk to you.' _Of fucking course. A scowl deepened on my face as the guard drug me on the floor behind him.

_'Oh, good, just what I wanted to hear today.'_

_'Listen, I know this sets our plans back a lot, but don't worry about them. Until you're out of Isolation your biggest concern is staying sane by any means necessary. No one has been locked up in there for more than 8 months, they're usually put in the Labs, but I guess you got lucky.'_

_'Yeah, being strapped onto a metal table in complete darkness and silence for the next year is lucky.' _Needless to say I was still pretty pissed. Isolation was different than the Labs in a few ways; they didn't experiment on you and you were always alone. Basically I was going to be force fed mush, given two bathroom breaks a day, and be secured to a cold, uncomfortable table for the next 365 long, torturous days. I must've been out of range for Jacob to talk to me because I never got a reply. I was hoisted up by my chains and carelessly tossed into a new room, the one I'd be spending a lot of time in. Vibrations on the floor told me that the door was being closed behind me and I stood up, waiting for the guard to carry out his job. A shirt was thrown at me, since I was still missing my old one, and I quickly put it on. I didn't even have my arm all the way in before I was shoved against the wall. My arms, wrists, legs and ankles were all cuffed down leaving me permanently stuck in a cross formation. They pulled something beside me, maybe a lever, and the wall adjusted itself into a table so it laid flat. I stayed there in silence, darkness creeping up on me and my mind slowly slipping away.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys:) **

**This chapter is pretty short, but I couldn't make it any longer without it being chapter 9 as well. I'll try and post early next week to make it up:)**

**Thank you ****_sooooo much _****to the people who followed, favorited and reviewed Home. It really makes my day guys;)**

**Disclaimer: There isn't any Marvel characters or ideas in this chapter, but since I love them and are equally scared of their power I still don't own Marvel. Surprising, right? **

* * *

><p>1 Week Later<p>

It feels like it's been a month. My back feels like it's being stabbed from just laying here. I go over verses, quotes, lyrics and notes of music just trying to stay normal, to have a string to pull myself back to reality. I was 'unlocked' twice to use the bucket in the corner and was _tube fed. Fucking tube fed. _It made me cry every time from the sheer uncomfortable burn it brought. If it has been a month, I still have 11 more to go. I want this to be over.

* * *

><p>2 Months Later<p>

I can faintly hear my voice when I talk or sing, so that's what I have reverted to. My throat is usually raw by time I sleep. I generally stick to just talking out weird scenarios, ones that will likely never happen, but with the way my life is going I guess I never know. I think the cuts on my back are swollen, but not infected- it'd be too much of a blessing to die from infection now. Sometimes my heart beat slows, and it's like if I just let go I'll fade away- no hassle, a peaceful death for where I am, but I promised Sierra and it keeps me hanging on to whatever I have left. Hopefully I can keep myself from trying.

* * *

><p>4 Months Later<p>

I can't remember sunlight. I can't remember the outside. I can't remember the mutant I talked to, I only remember him as that, Him. My middle name has completely left me, but I remember my first and last- barely. I have gone over music notes, lyrics, rhymes, quotes, and stories- they always stay with me, but faces seem distorted- I can't think of my own. My hair was brown, as well as my eyes, I think. I would accept it if I just stayed in this room forever, it wouldn't surprise me. I forgive my parents for doing what they did.

* * *

><p>8 Months Later<p>

Am I crazy? Sometimes I hear voices that aren't there, maybe it's my conscious. I can still hear the music, though I have forgotten its name. I count the seconds as they pass. It takes 950 of them to force a tube down my throat for food, 120 of them to hose me down, and 300 of them are used for a bathroom break. My heart beats 51 times a minute. The dull thud rings loudly through my ears. I have stopped talking because I don't know of anything to say.

* * *

><p>11 Months Later<p>

Darkness and silence haunt me. The music stopped.

* * *

><p>1 Day Before Release<p>

My name started with an R…..

* * *

><p>Third Person P.O.V<p>

Ripley was drug back to her old cell, where Jacob watched horrified as she didn't move. Her clothes were tattered rags as they didn't give her a new set all year. Her wrists and ankles were bloody from the metal cuffs and she was paler than a ghost from not even being in contact with artificial light. He didn't think she could get any skinnier, and it was a miracle she was alive in the first place. The guards dropped her in a heap on the ground, her body remaining motionless. Jacob was incredibly worried, and as soon as the door shut behind her he called to her mind.

_'Ripley…..? Roy…?' _He asked her gently. Her head moved slightly, barely enough to be noticed.

_'Is that my name?' _She replied quietly. He had a small burst of hope, it was something.

_'Yes! Yes, your name is Ripley Marie Williams, but you go by Roy, do you remember?' _

_'It's- I.., what's your name?' _She sounded like she had a faint memory, but was still confused.

_'Jacob, Jacob Harris, come on, Roy, you gotta snap out of it!' _He pleaded.

_'I can remember, Jacob, just- it's hazy right now. Being held down to a table for a year fucks up your head.' _ She said, crawling up on her hands and knees towards the wall. Once there she hugged her knees to her chest, glad she could actually move her limbs again.

_'Jacob, what do I look like?' _She asked hesitantly after a moment. Jacob looked at her, deep in thought.

_'Your face is smooth and round, but is slightly pointed near the bottom. When you came in your hair was short, but now it falls in dark brown waves down to the middle of your back. You told me your eyes were light brown, and that your mom described them like the color of autumn leaves- even though you hated that analogy. You have small spots of freckles on your cheeks, but they're hard to see unless you actually look and your lips are full and light pink. You stand at least 5' 8", if not taller. Your hands and feet are a bit larger than normal, but not in a bad way, although you always said they were 'bigger than a lumberjacks', no matter what people told you. You're a bit of a tomboy, but in the best way.' _He said, trying to finish with a joke. He was a bit embarrassed at how he came across; hoping Roy didn't pick up on the fondness in his voice. Jacob had really missed her while she was gone.

_'… Thank you.' _She replied quietly. They sat in silence after that, Ripley trying to think off what she did before Isolation.

_'We made a plan, didn't we? I came in here and told you that we'd make a plan to get everyone out.' _

_'Yeah, the chances seem pretty slim now.' _He answered truthfully.

_'Would you rather die just sitting here or trying to get out? I could care less if I just died now, but I might as well try and get out if I can.' _There was no hint of sarcasm or rhetoric in her voice, she was just being honest. Jacob had the same ideals she did, might as well be productive if you're going to die anyway.

_'So, where do you want to start?'_


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey guys:)**

**It's so cold and I love it:) I thought I had something to announce while writing this chapter but it mustn't have been too important because I forgot….**

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**Disclaimer: I am struggling to make creative/funny disclaimers but it's like trying to write 30+ jokes for the same boring subject. I will never, ever own Marvel, to my dismay, and shall therefore never be sued, so help me God.**

* * *

><p>4 Months Later<p>

Surprisingly I've gained weight. I must've got back at least 10 pounds since I've had bigger meals, and I probably land somewhere in the 90 pound zone again. I have nightmares though, about going crazy again. The whole time I was in this place I didn't have a single nightmare; I just tried not to dwell on my situation, but after coming out of Isolation that's all I do. It's like all my thoughts revert back to sad, pitiful ones I had after 6 or 7 months in that room and it scares me. Luckily having a telepathic friend in the cell next to mine helps, but he isn't available to help me 24-7, you know, like when he's _sleeping. _To my advantage we only sleep 5-ish hours a day since we do nothing all the time. If we have the energy we do crunches or pushups, trying to keep our strength decent, but on the meals they serve us it's pretty difficult to do more than 20 in a sitting. Jacob and I have gone back to planning the great escape, but we have a fatal flaw- how would we actually get out? It's _pretty solid_ up until that point, though.

1. They take me in for testing

2. I blow open the cell doors

3. Nuthin. I don't know, all the guards slip on banana peels and break their spines, we're clueless.

4. FREEDOM! LIFE IS GREAT, PEOPLE CAN ENJOY DEMOCRACY AND GET A JOB AND HAVE _YEARS_ OF THERAPY.

Yeah, it's the worst, but what do you expect from a blind 20 year old, with an 18 year old mentality, and a 25 year old who's been in a cell since he was 16. We thought about using a teleporter, but there were none in the M.D.D.P.

_'What about in the Labs, are there any there?'_

_'Yeah, there's a few, but they're not all _there.' Jacob replied.

_'Well, what does that mean?'_

_'It means that their brain has been hacked by the man- they follow orders against their own will.' _

_'Okay, what about the other mutants then, who has effective abilities, can fully control them and what are they?'_

_'We have a shifter- but only small mammals, another electrokinetic, yours truly- a telepath, you, and a girl who can grow to be 50 feet tall.'_

_'So what you're saying is that unless a mutant is brought here, one who can teleport, we'll just have to fight our way out.' _

_'Yeah, pretty much, you did say that you would only save 23 people- maybe it's just supposed to happen this way…..'_

Maybe he was right; no he had to be right. There were currently 39 people in the Commons and 11 in the Labs, which meant that, along with the guards, we'd be fighting those 11 weaponized mutants- most of whom had distinctly dangerous powers and absolutely no mercy.

_'Well, let's get this show on the road.'_

* * *

><p><em>'Alright, is everyone away from the doors?' <em>

_'Yup. Okay, let's start simple… just try a couple of cells- maybe mine and Claudia's old cell.' _I kept my arms at my sides and focused on the two adjacent cells.

_'Okay, how'd I do?' _I asked after trying to admit two sparks.

_'Well, you only got one spark out at a time and both of them were on the ground, a few feet in front of the cells…' _

_'Goddamnit, this is going to take forever! Why can't I just blow off my mask when I go in for testing?' _I asked, seething.

_'Because there's going to be three guns pointed at you and you won't have time to react. Besides, we have all the time we need, it's not like there's a deadline to escaping.' _

_'Thank you, Sherlock, for enlightening me to that fact.' _I replied sarcastically, getting ready to try again. I focused my points up and more towards the cells, making sure I did both sparks at the same time.

_'Okay, where were those?' _

_'About a foot higher and nowhere near the cells.' _Jacob answered with amusement in his voice.

_'Son of a bitch!'_

* * *

><p>8 Frustrating Months Later<p>

All the mutants were working together. They knew the plan almost more than I did and accepted the fact the some of them will die. Sierra said that she changed the future before she died, so I'm trying to do the same, but the fact that someone will lose their life fighting is almost inevitable. We were going to fight, and whoever made it out alive was free. Where they were going to go afterward was another story. Most of them have families they can go back to, but a few were taken from a situation like mine. None of us knew what were outside the walls; if we were close to a city, or if it was summer or winter out, we just knew we were in New York. We're all generally friends by this point, so we figured if someone got out and had nowhere to go, they'd stay with someone until they did.

Today everyone was extra uneasy, though. Today was the day of our freedom- hopefully. I had practiced aiming my explosions for what feels like an eternity. When I was tested I practiced, when I was in my cell I practiced, but I just got the hang of it a few weeks ago. I'm going to blow the gates open while I'm in the testing room, so the last time I was tested I had finally managed to emit 39 sparks at once, all on the iron bars of our cells.

_'Is everyone against the back wall?' _I asked, knowing I'd be taken in at any time now.

_'Yes, although I think they're scared shitless.'_

_'They should try being me.' _I answered back sarcastically. I felt the door in my cell be opened and prepared myself for the task at hand. My breathing and heart rate were spastic, but I managed to keep it hidden. Everything was going as planned; I was hung up by my chains and prodded with shocks, but when I made the first explosion, the one they wanted from me, there were 39 others that went off as well. It shook the walls and ceiling like an earthquake and I could feel small pebbles of cement fall onto my shoulders. If everything was still going to plan then Robby, the electrokenetic, should have the lights out by now. I blew my chains and blindfold off, dropping onto the floor with a faint smack against the hard cement. I could see in the darkness since my eyes had been adjusting to it for the past few years, so I stood slowly, making sure the guards didn't see me. I raised my hands slightly and hesitantly, feeling ill at my task, and killed all three guards in a ball of orange energy. Their bodies fell to the ground and blood leaked from the holes I had made, making me stand in shock. I didn't feel bad about killing them, blowing their heads in, but that was what made me sick- not caring. The alarms sounded and red lights flashed from the walls, breaking me from my thoughts. I ran out the door, not knowing where I was going there quickly. The lights were starting to flicker back on and I knew that the back-up generator was starting to cut my time short. I sped up as much as I could, trying to talk to Jacob, but when I got to the cells I quickly realized why I wasn't getting an answer; it was a mini warzone. I searched around the room, the light starting to blind me but keeping my eyes wide.

"Jacob!" I yelled, my voice ripping through my throat, as I saw him being strangled by one of the Labs' experiments. I pushed through the others and made my way to the center of the floor, blasting the mutant off of Jacob. I pulled him up, red marks circling his neck.

"Thanks.." He said with a raspy voice. I went back to help the others fight- people exploding all around me. The battle was vicious to say the least- most of us were taking out our anger on the people that kept us here without mercy, including me. By the end of the fight Sierra's prediction was almost spot on, but we managed to save one more life. It may not be able to make up for the ones who sacrificed themselves for others freedom, but it was enough for me. Everyone let out a bittersweet sigh of relief, happy to be free but sad so many had given their lives for them. We all started making our way to the exit, Jacob and I lagging behind. The facility was much larger than we expected; the cells, Isolation and the Labs only made up about half of the building. We even discovered it had a second floor, used for surveillance and the living spaces of the guards.

"You know, I've shared more shit with you in here than I did in the last 15 years of my life." I said, walking slowly beside Jacob, both of us tired and beaten.

"Does that make me your gay best friend? Because even though I haven't had contact with a woman, with the exception of you, in the past 10 years I'm pretty sure I'm still straight." He joked, a small smirk on his lips.

"Hey, that's okay, I get it if you just want to keep it to yourself for now, just know that whenever you want to talk about it I'll be here." I said, laughs breaking my words. The look on his face was priceless.

"Hey, you said you wanted to come with me, so if we stay together for a while this is what you'll have to live with."

"May God have mercy on my soul." He mockingly pleaded. We laughed as we approached the literal door to freedom, but of course my life wouldn't be what it is unless there was one more challenge. Like the short, bitchy one behind me.

"Stop!" The all too familiar voice demanded. Everyone did as we were told and turned around to see leader herself.

"You don't belong out there." She started, but I wasn't too interested in her speech as I noticed her gripping a small device.

"The world isn't suited for your kind of _scum…._" _'Jacob, you need to tell everyone to get out of here- __now_._' _I said, not leaving any room for argument. He nodded and only a second later everyone bolted for the door. I held Jacob's hand and pulled him along with me, trying to get to the door as quickly as we could, but a faint click sounded behind us and a shot rang out before I could react. Jacob let go of my grip, tripping to the ground. I ran back to him, kneeling by his side and flipping him over. Blood seeped from the center of his head and dripped down the sides. No time was left to talk to him, no last words; it was just taken away from him without a second thought. I stared in disbelief and pure rage, my heart thumping loudly in my ears but my breath getting caught in my throat. My vision went red as I looked back up at the woman who has kept all of us here. The gun was lowered by her side and a smirk was plastered on her face. Her thumb moved over the small switch as I raised my hand and I watched in slow motion as her wrist practically disintegrated. She let out a guttural scream of pure agony and dropped to her knees, clutching what was left of her hand.

"Why don't you just kill me, it's in your nature to bring death." She ground out, sneering at me. I stood up and walked over to her, looking down with flaming hatred.

"You're right. I only hope that I'll meet you again in hell." I said with venom. I started in her arms and legs, nothing vital, and slowly made small explosions, holding them there and inflating her limbs. She screamed something louder and more monstrous than I have ever heard, it was the most beautiful music I had ever heard. I was sure the heat was burning her from the inside out simultaneously, cooking her alive. As her extremities started to bust I moved my blasts to her stomach and chest, killing her in a vile, _torturous_ way. When I was done I lowered my hand and moved back beside Jacob, small tears escaping the corners of my eyes. Sierra was wrong though; 23 lives saved, but not including mine. My parents don't want me, I can't go back to my only living friend because of the risk, and the only two people who cared for me are dead because of that reason. So, a small explosion went off in the corner of the room, another one breaking a support pillar, and then a flood of them- _everywhere_, sent cold, thick, concrete chunks to land all around me as I demolished it. I let out sobs of agony and uncontained ire from what my life has become, why this all had to happen to me, why my friends had to _die_ for me. And I let out my last sigh of relief as I felt the cement ceiling crush me into oblivion.

* * *

><p>Third Person P.O.V<p>

The newly free group looked back as the facility that imprisoned them for so long fell to pieces in a fiery blaze. The ground was covered in at least a foot of snow and they were surrounded by a thick forest.

"How are we supposed to get out of here? We're at least a day away from anywhere and we'll freeze before we get there." A boy asked, hugging his arms tightly to his chest.

"I don't know, but we have to at least try. We didn't get out of there just to-" The girl was cut off by the roar of a large jet coming towards them. Although most of them have been inside a cell for more than 5 years, they knew that it was no ordinary jet, the size being much larger and thinner than standard military ones. They watched in curiosity as it landed, the snow blowing violently from the power it exerted. A ramp hissed open and a man in a wheelchair made his way down it.

"Hello, my name is Charles Xavier."

* * *

><p>Ripley's P.O.V<p>

I slowly came to, completely confused, partially because I realized I was on top of a pyramid but mainly because I was supposed to be dead while I was still feeling pretty alive.

"Whew, that was _pretty _intense; it was like watching a movie." A voice, no doubt Sierra's, said beside me.

"I'm dead." I said, not as statement but more in shock.

"Well yeah, you did kinda kill yourself, but it was somewhat understandable. And you've been dead for a few days in real time." She replied. I didn't feel sad here, or angry, I just felt _okay. _

"Where are we? And why don't I feel remotely bad?" I asked.

"We are sitting on one of the pyramids of Giza, my favorite place, and that's because when you're dead there's really no use for feeling bad anymore."

"Why aren't I in hell?"

"There's more for you to do, but you will have some consequences for that. Besides you don't even know if there is or isn't a hell."

"Would you like to divulge which god or deity is the 'master of the universe'?"

"Nope. That would spoil it." She said jokingly. I took in the beauty of my surroundings, it being the first time I had seen _daylight _in over 2 years. I was also healthy here- my skin had color and my body wasn't just a skeleton.

"Why do I have to go back? The whole point of killing myself was because I didn't have anything left." I said after a few minutes.

"You still have a purpose." She said, like it was almost obvious.

"What about you? Or Jacob? The people I killed and the people that laid down their lives for others, did they still have a purpose?"

"I was to protect you, Jacob was to help you, everyone has a purpose and yours is still there-" She said, smiling at me, "- you just have to find it." I sighed and nodded my head, not liking the verdict but accepting the fact.

"So what now, how do I get back?"

"I get to shove you off this thing." She said excitedly and entirely too quickly.

"Why are you so happy about it?"

"When you have the opportunity to push someone off a pyramid and back into the living don't tell me it's not awesome." I laughed and stood up, following Sierra to the top.

"Okay, so that punishment thing I mentioned earlier?"

"Yeah….?"

"Well, uh, since your purpose is so great and your circumstances were understandable we're giving you a second chance _but _only enough to keep you alive. So you're going to be in a lot of pain and be really weak, but you'll live." She said, speeding through the bad part.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait. I'll be alive, but in so much pain and just overall bad condition that it'd be impossible for me to be living otherwise? You're giving me _just enough_?" I asked incredulously.

"Yup, don't waste your chance, bye!" She said in less than a second, pushing me off the side and back into an unwanted opportunity.

**Hey, yeah it's kinda weird to have an AN at the end, but I just wanted to say that even though I referenced the X-Men I will most likely not talk about them again. I only did what I did so I could tie a pretty bow on the actuality of my story:) **


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey guys:)**

**So I'm having a bit of writer's block at the moment making this next chapter. This doesn't mean I won't have it out in time or that I'm taking a temporary break it just means that the next chapter may feel like filler. I've only gotten the first paragraph done and I have already re-written it 5 times, but hopefully I can make it work… Essentially I'm just warning you and preemptively apologizing for the next chapter, but I'm crossing my fingers I'll figure it out. Wish me luck:)**

**As always thank all you beautiful people for following, favoriting and reviewing Home, it's better than cookies:)**

**Leave any questions, comments or suggestions in the review section and I promise to address them in the next AN**

**Disclaimer: I really wish I owned Marvel- could you imagine all the superheroes that like classic rock:)**

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><p>I immediately felt pain in the darkness I awoke in-pain that was growing by the second. I was still under cement block that killed me, but not as squished. Okay, well I shouldn't say that; just maybe not as dead. So far I couldn't move my legs and looking over I saw my right arm was hyper-extended, my elbow being bent backwards at a 90 degree angle. Oh, and I only saw this through one eye as the other was swollen shut.<p>

_'Oh god, don't think about the pain, don't think about the injuries, just go, you have to go.' _I told myself, trying to focus on anything else- I hate the sight of injuries when the person in still alive, it's just one of the things that makes me feel sick. The slab of concrete was hard to blow off with the energy I had, but I managed to move it just enough to slip past. When the cold breeze and bright sunlight hit me I saw why I couldn't move my legs- everything from my hip down was broken in more than one place. I let out a shuttering breath and bit my tongue, closing my eyes tightly to drown out the images of them. I felt so incredibly weak now, not necessarily tired but like I had just run 3 marathons and swam another 5 miles.

_'She said you have to want it, you have to push.' _My left arm, the only working appendage, raised me into a sitting position.

_'Okay, now what? I obviously can't walk, maybe I should- oh.' _I thought as I came up with how I was to leave. My right arm was pretty useless right now, but I could still feel my legs and remaining arm. My hand emitted small outbursts, like and engine sputtering to life, before I administered an explosion large enough to propel me anywhere. Once I was forced into a standing position I did the same thing with my legs; small sparks then a steady bursts, making me gain height. I remembered Sierra telling me that New York was 60 miles away, so once I got high enough I looked in all directions, trying to find the city. The Stark Tower was my lighthouse, the beacon on top telling me its location. It also told me where I was supposed to go; maybe I could get help from the mutant that worked with Stark, if she was there.

_'Don't worry about 'if's, just go.' _I nodded my head, about to lift my legs but yelping in agony. Sure, the cold, wintery air helped with the pain so far, but now it was riding on the level of severity my leg had, and rising like it wouldn't stop soon. I had to go with plan B, using my legs to steady and my arm to propel- it'd just be much slower and less efficient. I'm sure I'd be a sight to see just moseying through the air, but luckily since my clothes were gray and white, they only thing that barely stood out up here was my hair and small rocket appendages. I moved at _maybe_ 50 miles an hour, meaning that I'd have to manage how much energy I use and deal with the radiating anguish for over 60 minutes. Well, isn't life great.

At 15 minutes in the adrenaline keeping my pain at a low was completely gone and left me suffering. I had no doubt that I would be dead from my injuries if I hadn't gotten that deal. Tears leaked down my face in endless streams and the pain would make me vomit if I had anything left in my stomach. When I was just past halfway there groaning and almost fainting from the pain. The cold was a benefit for keeping me awake but I wouldn't last long. My legs felt like the hands of Zeus had them in a vice grip, my arm was like it was being cooked in hell's flames and the rest of my body felt like I was trampled by every sports team in America. Once I was almost there I started fainting mid air- falling a couple of feet and waking back up, trying to stay that way but failing miserably. I was so close, but I was completely exhausted before I even left the facility. I pushed on, getting meters, feet, inches away from the platform of the tower. I made my way above it, trying to give myself a gentle landing but I was out of energy. I almost passed out again when I hit the hard balcony, but I had to keep going, _I had to keep going. _I crawled on one arm, dragging myself to the doors and using whatever I had left to blow them open. I made my way through the glass and into the sight of several confused people, some I recognized as the Avengers. My head was throbbing and my vision became blurred with black spots. I whispered a pitiful 'help' before the pain became too much. I only hoped I tried hard enough for my second chance.

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><p>5 Days Later<p>

_'Ugh, uuuugggghhh, whatever drug is being pumped through my body is a miracle….' _I thought lazily, feeling pretty _light. _I slowly opened my eyes, still not used to being able to have the gift of sight. Quiet beeps beside me and the blinding white theme signaled I was in some sort of med room, but not necessarily a hospital from the decorations and equipment stocked in it. My legs were hung up slightly by straps and wrapped heavily in casts and my arm was held together by a strong brace. My left eye was still swollen shut but I couldn't feel it so it didn't bother me. I looked around the room, seeing a small security cam in the corner.

"Heeeyyy… hey, uh, whoever's watching me.. um, I'm wakin up…" I slurred worse than any drunk I've ever heard. I took as deep a breath as I could, letting out a content sigh. It may have been the drugs, it was _probably _the drugs, but I felt really _okay _I guess the best word would be. Not happy, but not sad, and certainly pain free. I heard an elevator ding someone's arrival and I adjusted my head towards the thin, sliding doors. It was like a party walked in- I still recognized them as all 7 of the Avengers in my stoned mind, but there was another man with a metal hand peeking out from his long-sleeved shirt. Even though I knew the group name, I was too out of it to place specific names on anyone.

"How are you awake already?" The brown, curly haired one ask.

"I don't know, I guess I'm friends with some higher ups. Or maybe it's because I feel like sinking in this bed…" I replied gradually.

"Bruce, how much drugs did you give her?" No, that one was Tony Stark, couldn't forget it. I connected that the curly haired man was Bruce- Bruce Banner, I think.

"Hey, you know you kinda saved my life once. Yeah I was stuck in a hard situation and, yeah things happened…." I said towards Tony, thinking back to when I escaped the hospital. He gave me a very analyzing look.

"Seriously, Bruce."

"Hey, I'm pretty high but I'm tellin' the truth. Just don't ask me any difficult algebra questions and I'll be fine….." I trailed off. Bruce smiled warmly at me and grabbed a small clipboard off the end of the bed.

"You are supposed to be dead- three times over actually." He told me, looking down at one of the pages.

"I bet that's a record..."

"What happened?"

"Unless you want me falling asleep halfway you're gonna need to turn down the morphine." He let out a small chuckle and complied. I shifted in my seat a bit so I wouldn't have the urge to just let my eyes close.

"M'kay, well I am a mutant- so if you were wondering how I got in here, there's your answer, and I can make explosions. Uh, oh yeah when there was that alien invasion thing I think two-ish years ago I kinda helped you out. I was protecting a little girl from a hoard of them and since I was still trying to keep my 'condition' a secret I only made small explosions, trying not to gain attention, but it ended up getting my friend killed. I was then taken by an agency called the M.D.D.P, or the Mutant Detection and Detainment Program, where I was held prisoner until like a week ago, but I was dead for a bit so I don't really know. I blew that place to hell, though, which killed me for a bit and is also the reason why I came here looking like roadkill."

"You just blew up the place with everyone in it?" Blonde, tan, and tall asked- he's Captain America.

"Pfft, no. If I was gonna do that I would've blown the place when I woke up from my chloroform dreams."

"Explosions sound like the easiest way to get out of a cell, what took you so long?" Tony asked me, receiving a slap on the arm from Black Widow.

"When I arrived they put a blindfold on me that also blocked my hearing, and it was electrified, so I couldn't touch it. I could have easily blown it off, but it just would've just made my obstacles higher. I also was stuck going insane for a year when I was strapped down to a metal table." I replied swiftly. There were several shocked faces around me, but it was more over Tony.

"Who are you?" There was really no point in being secretive- I didn't care if I was holed up again and Sierra said I still had something to do so I might as well.

"Ripley Marie Williams." This time it was Black Widow who spoke up.

"You're supposed to be dead."

"Yeah, three times over apparently..." The red-head whispered something to the Captain and he had everyone leave the room except for her.

"Almost three years ago you killed a boy and vanished. Why?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"I wasn't planning on it." I answered honestly.

"Why?" She pressed on, sounding a bit angry. I didn't mind telling her, after the last few years I didn't have any dignity left.

"He was raping me. I tried to get away and he cut my neck- I tried again and he cut my thigh. I didn't know I was a mutant; I didn't want to kill him. "I said, images of a blood-stained, hollowed out chest came rushing back to me. I quickly thought of a lie so I could get out of the small interrogation.

"Any other questions? I'm probably gonna pass out pretty soon…"

"No, try and get some more sleep. If you need something just ask JARVIS." She told me. I nodded my head and the room was emptied again. I laid my head back down, falling asleep before the last person left.

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><p>Images flashed through my mind. I watched myself kill Jackson, I watched Sierra be stabbed by an alien, I watched Jacob be shot in the head and I could do nothing. I watched myself kill all those guards, all the experiments from the Labs, the lady in control of everything. Every scene was death until I got to the darkness. I felt myself go crazy again- like I was trapped in my own head for eternity. Music notes, names, words, and symbols sped through my thoughts until I could think of nothing. Thankfully I woke up soon after that and had no urge to fall asleep. I glanced down at the blanket lying on top of me and noticed that it had several burns through it that without a doubt came from me. I un-tucked my hands and saw that they were faintly orange, proving my theory. I sighed and stared at the ceiling.<p>

"JARVIS?" I asked unsurely.

"Yes, Ms. Williams?" A somewhat robotic voice responded.

"Do you know my injuries list?"

"Yes, you had several small fractures in your left and right tibia and fibula, two severe fractures in your right fibula and one in your left, and several major and minor fractures in both femurs. As for your pelvis it was cracked, chipped and broken in several places. Your right arm was dislocated and hyper-extended, three ribs were bruised and you had several lacerations across your body. Surprisingly though you had no internal bleeding." I sat silently for a moment, letting the information sink in.

"That's impressive." I replied semi-sarcastically.

"It's impossible." I smirked softly.

"Yeah, it is. What's holding me all together then?"

"Several plates and pins along with a generous amount of bone cement." He replied.

"How long did it take to put me back together again?" I asked, newly interested.

"A number of surgeries that lasted longer than 4 hours over a 2-day period." Holy crap, I woke up after only three days? Wait, how long will it take for me to be able to leave the bed?

"When can I move on my own?"

"By my calculations, four days or until your arm is fully healed." I nodded my head, annoyed. I was about to ask another question when Captain America came into the room- _with food. _I swear to God I almost _cried. _I nearly snatched the tray from his hands and immediately attacked the heavenly gift. I heard him practically choking on laughs as I wolfed down half the pancake in seemingly one bite. I swallowed it down with a gulp of orange juice and turned my heads towards him.

"I have had the same meal of cold, lumpy mystery mush for two years- this is truly the best thing I've eaten. Besides I can actually see what's in front of me so that's a plus." I said, cutting out more of the warm, fluffy bliss. The plate was scraped clean a moment later along with a now bone-dry glass.

"Why is there burn marks on your blanket?"He asked after a somewhat awkward silence.

"Nightmares. It's worse when they're memories…" I answered.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked quietly, meaning the M.D.D.P.

"It's a long story."

"I've got time." I raised an eyebrow at him but seeing as he was genuinely concerned I went on.

"It was like I walked into a concentration camp- a couple questionable meals a day if you're lucky, a cold shower once a week, no bed, a cold cell and a new name." I said, pulling down the blanket to look at the small, black numbers. My arms were toothpicks- even with eating bigger and more nutritious meals I still had to be only 100 pounds.

"We were all so weak- when we were tested some of us just couldn't keep up." I hesitated going on, the memories making me sick.

"They beat a seven year old girl to death because she couldn't do what they asked of her- everyone else was whipped but I guess she didn't meet their standard for being a hostage." I said- spite riddled in my tone. I could see shock and anger flash through his eyes, but he tried not to show it.

"My friend Jacob, a telepath, was in her mind when she died and something must've triggered a reaction. He was talking to me at the time and when it happened he started screaming in agony. For me it felt like my head had three butcher knives cutting through it. I tried to help him, I blew off my blindfold and the wall separating us, but I couldn't do anything. One of my friends died, I got 20 lashes and I was put in Isolation for a year- someone high and mighty must've really had it out for me that day."

"They whipped you?" He asked, astounded someone would go that far.

"They whipped everyone. We were experimented on, humiliated, thrown around- we weren't people to them, we were trash. They kept us there so we wouldn't ruin humanity."

"I'm sorry for what happened to you." He said solemnly.

"I'm not." I could easily tell he was confused by my answer. "I got 23 people out. If that meant 2 years of shit then so be it. I guess I just don't regret it." Steve smiled at me, his eyes practically sparkling.

"So, what happens to me now?"

"Well, were planning on figuring that out when you're healed."

"Oh, awesome." I said sarcastically. We talked for a while longer, him going over the forties and me going over classical music. I know, I talk about the most interesting things. Eventually he took the empty tray from me and left the room. I sat up in the bed and tried getting resituated, the ache subtly burning through my body.

"Hey JARVIS?" I asked, pulling the sheets back up.

"Yes, Ms. Williams?"

"What was his name?"


	11. Some news

**Hey guys…**

**Ok so I was wrong about having that chapter out this week. Some family issues came up yesterday and it's enough to put Home on hold for maybe a week. The problem should be solved quickly, but it'll be pretty time consuming and the stress is definitely upon me. The good news is writing Home gives me a bit of a break and all my ideas are ****_there_****, it's just that my time is a bit pressed… I'm going to try my hardest and get the chapter out as fast as I can, but I don't know if it'll be a few days or a week- hopefully soon. Until then keep being awesome and beautiful beings:)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey guys:)**

**As said in the last chapter, er last legit chapter, I had some supreme writers block on this chapter along with high amounts of stress, so please forgive me for the lack of 'interesting things' in this one. Hopefully it's not too terrible. Um, as for reality I have gotten some things figured out, but essentially the problem is unfixable but ever present for now. It is getting better though, so that's a plus:) It helps listening to German disko music, no lie. Seriously guys, I'd recommend listening to Moskau by Dschinghis Khan, it's hilarious and extremely catchy. Anyways, I still plan on making a chapter a week, and I have still have many ideas plot wise so the story itself is in good condition. **

**Thank you so, so much for favoriting, following, reviewing, ****_everything. _****You all are some serious bad mood fixers and you support me so much it's pretty great.**

**Disclaimer: Can you imagine if the great people from Marvel read their own fanfictions:) I'd cry:)**

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><p>Third Person P.O.V<p>

A tall, lanky man walked briskly through the heavy rain, his beads of sweat being hidden in the storm. He used the sleeve of his jacket to wipe off large droplets on the small burn phone and quickly called the number written on a slip of paper.

"Has it found her yet?" A deep, throaty voice asked over the speaker.

"Yes- she's been located at the Avenger's Tower in New York." The nervous 'messenger' replied. With the staff being at an all time low, they were utilizing everyone left- including the low-level rookies.

"Make it stretch the process out. I don't want her off easy for her actions." The voice replied, sounding frustrated.

"Yes, sir. But what about the others, won't they find out?"

"It can handle it. Report back in two days." The faint dial tone told him the call had ended. He stopped by a dumpster and snapped the phone in half before hastily tossing it in. The man looked around suspiciously before walking back off into the rain, just another faceless citizen.

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><p>Ripley's P.O.V<p>

I was questioned a few more times by the rest of the Avengers and Bucky, which was very awkward when I only knew a few of their names. They filled me in on recent events- basically everything major that happened in the last 2-ish years. The whole lining of the 'realms' thing surprised me, but after the invasion it wasn't that unrealistic. I had a few questions of my own about where I'd go after this, but they all answered like politicians- sneaking around the answer in every conceivable way. It basically left me as a sitting duck, my life was now revolving around their decision- I guess I just get what I paid for.

The last couple of days were the most boring days I've had outside of a cell. I had never spent the night in the hospital when I was a kid, so I didn't really know the gist of it- now I know I hate it. Not much bothers me after the long desensitization process I went through recently, but being helpless is still one of them. Since my legs were still wrapped and my arm was healing I had to have help into a wheelchair every time I needed to take a piss. I even tried using my powers to fly myself there using only one arm, but as soon as I tried the fire alarms went off- that was fun to explain. Mostly everyone stared at me in exasperation mixed with disbelief, but Bruce laughed and Tony looked like he knew what I was going through. The experience wasn't all too bad, though. The food was heavenly in every way- I even had a _burger and fries_ for lunch. I'm almost positive I swallowed it whole, though I'd have to watch in slow motion to see anything.

I often thought of Jacob and Claudia. They were both taken without a warning, and now wouldn't even be buried. Their parents, siblings and friends never knew what happened to them, what was done to them in that place, that they're dead. They never got to say goodbye- no last words, just death. I had made their killers pay for what they'd done, but as much as I loved both of them I had mixed feelings about how I went about it. Anyone who has done something of great significance knows that you have different feeling when you do it and when you look back on it- and mine was almost regret. I use 'almost' loosely; I don't feel shameful for ridding the world of sick murderers, sans Jackson, but it still feels _wrong_. And with Jackson I truly feel terrible. It was an accident, sure, but I had killed him when it wasn't called for. In today's society rape lands you in prison for however many years, but not _death. _I had taken away so many lives- I just wasn't ready for it.

Dreams came every time I slept, and unfortunately I slept a lot. Sometimes it was just the weird, inexplicable dreams I've always had but mostly it was of blood, and death. My mind liked to make up scenarios, no matter how dark and gruesome they can be. Last night I dreamt that instead of blowing up the gates in the M.D.D.P, I blew up the inmates. All of them. And in vibrant, vivid detail. Another time it was just darkness, I was back in Isolation. I couldn't wake up- it was like the escape, getting help, everything I'd done in the last week or so was the dream and insanity was my reality. Sometimes the images I get don't even seem mine, with faces and situations I've never seen.

Fury arrived 3 days later. Of course, I had no idea who he was other than the man who forced me out of the hospital 2 years ago. He strolled through the milky-white doors, acting more confident and powerful than anyone I had encountered.

"Hello, my name is Nick Fury." He said in a deep voice, standing at the end of my bed. Bald, black, wearing a long, leather duster, something about him was pretty familiar.

"I've come to understand you have escaped and freed several others from a small ally of HYDRA." I looked closely at his eyes through the sunglasses; one was deeply wounded. Maybe he wore an eye patch before. I instantly backed up on the bed, wide eyed and hands sparking.

"You were there…" I said incredulously.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about- you and your goons at the hospital in Creighton." I answered, anger leaking through my fear and surprise. He didn't answer immediately- he just stood there like he was scrutinizing me.

"You had killed a young man the night before- there was a hole in his chest and burns around it. No one your age has weapons that could do that."

"It wasn't a weapon it was an accident. Is that what prompted you to corner me with guns?" I asked, seeing his reasoning just a bit. He nodded his head.

"Did you have any idea I was a mutant?" I asked again.

"It was a theory."

"Were you going to kill me?" I was becoming increasingly angrier.

"It wasn't our intention."

"Why did you fire upon me when I tried to escape?" No answer.

"Why did you try to kill me when I had done nothing to harm you- _when I was trying to defend myself?" _I asked, voice shaking and eyes stinging. My hands were completely engulfed and burning the sheets, but I wasn't controlling it. Fury started to reach for his gun but the others came rushing in, already armed. Natasha and Clint were aiming at me out of the corner of my eye and said nothing. _What could they say? 'Drop your weapon?' _Tears formed on the edges of my vision but were luckily staying there, for now.

The room was silent- no one really knew where to go from here. I closed my eyes and covered them with my hand, the heat and sparks leaving a cool feeling on my face. Tears leaked through my fingers and I tried to control myself, taking a deep breath. Let's see, I believe I can trace every event in the last two and a half years of my life back to one bad set of circumstances. If I hadn't woken up before Fury got to the hospital, if I hadn't looked out the window and saw their guns, if I didn't know what people normally did to mutants I wouldn't have tried to run away to New York. I know I'd still probably be shipped off to god knows where with my bags being packed but I'd take sadness and anger over insanity and _rage. _I laughed miserably and spoke with as much composition I could muster.

"Everything that's happened in the last two and a half years, all because of a shitty misconception." I gripped the sheets with one extinguished hand and pushed hard into my eyes with the other, trying to hide my pathetic state but failing terribly. I heard the guns click and be placed back in their holster. I sighed and tried recomposing myself, but not removing my hands yet.

"What- what did you come here to tell me?" I asked quietly, pushing all other feelings out of focus.

"There's a position on the Avengers." I let out a short, sarcastic laugh.

"Yeah, I'll have to get back to you on that." I wiped my eyes and gripped my hands a few times before looking up. I'm sure my eyes were extremely red and puffy, but I didn't care and I doubt he cared. He nodded his head and made his way out the door. I could feel everyone staring at me, but one by one the left too- except one. Claire came and sat down beside me, looking at the burnt covers.

"We should look into fireproof sheets…"

"Sorry…"

"No, no it's fine." She said, smiling at me. "You know, I knew there were other mutants, but I never thought I'd meet another one."

"Most keep it hidden. People are pretty prejudiced against what the fear and don't understand. Although, I think it's getting better after you helped save the world." I answered, my voice starting to straighten out.

"In the camp, was there a lot of people?" She asked, the mood becoming serious and solemn.

"There were 50 of us, but several were reduced to experiments in the Labs." I said, bitterness lacing my words. "I was able to free 23 of us, at the sacrifice of a friend. I- I don't know what happened to them…" I trailed off. It was one of the various things causing me stress; I had no idea if everyone was able to get somewhere safe _alive. _

"There was a small set of foot-prints, but they ended only 100 feet from the facility." Well, that can be good or bad, though I don't know how it could be good at the moment. They must've lived, had to have lived, or Sarah would have said something about it, right? No. They _have_ to be okay, I won't allow myself to accept the possibility that they aren't.

"I don't know what to do… I was denied the afterlife just to wake up in pain and sadness and even more questions."

"Have you made a list?" She asked. I gave her a very questioning look but she was _completely _serious. She laughed and explained.

"No, really just make a list and work one at a time. It's stupid, sure, but it gets it off your mind and makes answers look somewhat accomplishable." She answered, handing me a piece of paper and a pen before standing to leave.

"If you ever need to talk, just ask." She told me nicely. I smiled and nodded my head and Claire left me to my thoughts. I clicked the pen and laid out the paper on the side of my bed so I could write on something hard.

1. Find Jacob and Claudia's family and tell them what happened

2. Let Megan know I'm free

3. Figure out where all the 'escapees' went

4. Get something for the nightmares

5. Know where I'm going after this

And, most dreaded

6. Meet with my parents


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey guys:)**

**I'm sorry it took so long, I'm really trying as hard as I can to get these out and make them as well as I can. I hope it's better late than never, but still I feel super bad… I really want to thank you all for sticking around even with the wonky release dates- hopefully the odds will be in my favor for the next chapter and I can get it out sooner. **

**It'd be really super-dooper and awesome if you could leave some reviews- it doesn't have to be long, but some constructive criticism would be outstanding. Also leave anything you want to see in the story as well, I'm always taking requests:)**

**As always, thank you so much to the people who followed, favorited and reviewed Home- it seriously helps on those rainy days:)**

**Disclaimer: I'm actually the Holy Trinity of Stan Lee, Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko in a female 16 year-old's body.**

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><p>I was surrounded by vast whiteness. There was simply nothing in view, just a giant void. I couldn't remember how I got here or what I was doing beforehand, but out of instinct I started walking.<p>

"Hello?" My voice echoed through the vast expanse.

"…Ripley." It was so faint, like a whisper in a crowd, but it was there. I shifted and headed towards it briskly, looking for any indicator of life.

"Hello?!" I yelled, running now.

"Ripley." Nearly tripping over my feet I came to an immediate stop and turned around. There were walls now, encompassing us in a small room, but it still looked like white nothingness.

"Jacob?" I asked breathlessly. A figure sitting in a black, wooden chair stood up slowly. There was liquid dripping from the back of its head. The person turned to face me and my assumptions were unfortunately correct. Jacob was pale here; a different pale than in the M.D.D.P, a deathly pale. Blood streaks flowed down the front of his face and around his nose, starting from a hole between his eyes. I was so scared; I wasn't sure how I didn't have a heart attack.

"O-oh, my god, Jacob, I-I'm so sorry…" I trembled out, starting to cry. He walked towards me, a deep scowl on his face.

"I died because of you." He sneered. I was paralyzed in place, unable to look away.

"I-I know, I'm s-sorry. I tried to g-get us out, but-"

"If you had just killed her before we ran I'd be alive! I never got to say the light of day again! My body is still there, stuck under the ruble!" I tried to speak, but nothing would come out- I could barely breathe. He kept walking up closer, and as I tried to step back I hit a wall.

"I will always be there! Didn't you care about me, didn't you want me to be free?!" He was inches from my face- so close I could feel his breath. I felt my fear starting to make my powers act up and my fingers spark out of control.

"J-Jacob, please, I can-"

"It should've been you!" Everything exploded.

I woke up in a cold sweat, chest heaving, but the fireproof blankets and gown un-singed. It still had to night since the lights were still off.

"JARVIS, what time is it?" I asked quietly, frustration in my tone.

"3:48 a.m. miss." I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. It had been three days since Fury came and I must've only gotten a collective 10 hours of sleep. The nightmares were unusually common, probably from the stress, but they had been getting more and more terrifying. I shook it off, no use in stressing myself more by worrying about it, and instead unlatched the siding of the hospital bed.

"JARVIS, don't activate the fire alarms, I'm just moving to the wheelchair." I told the AI. God, I can't imagine the meeting I'd have if I didn't- all the Avengers in their PJ's staring at me in utter disappointment. I'd rather burn my parents' house down and live with that. I scooted my butt over to the edge of the bed and stretched my arms out, making sure they were over nothing flammable. I gave myself just the right amount of force to lift myself up a bit, getting use to the strain. I grunted slightly, but bit my lip so I'd stop myself. Luckily my powers don't make any sound except a faint whooshing of the surrounding air; it kind of looks a rocket going off on a muted TV. Slowly I increased the power, eventually getting my feet completely off the bed and hovering.

"Good, hard parts over…" The wheelchair was sitting in the corner, so, only knocking my head on the ceiling twice, I awkwardly made my way over to it. I tried _really freaking hard _to lower myself down gradually, but like most of my life, I fucked it up. My ass plopped into the chair form four feet up and my _broken legs and healing pelvis _felt like they were re-shattered again. I hung my mouth open in a long, silent scream before the ache finally pulsed away. I took a deep breath and scooted myself back, adjusting in the seat.

"How was that for a landing, JARVIS?" I asked sarcastically, strolling out of the sliding doors.

"10 out of 10." He replied returning the tone. God, JARVIS's attitude is brilliant. I smirked and hit the up button on the elevator and rolled in when it chimed open.

"Where is the food located?"

"Floor 67, ma'am."

"Thank you." It only took a minute for the elevator to carry me up, the doors opening with the same ding. I moved over the small bump between the elevator and the floor itself and realized I wasn't alone in the room.

"Hello?" I asked, towards the muted TV. Clint raised his head and looked at me strangely, pausing the game of Mario Kart.

"Why are you up here?" He asked me in a hushed tone.

"Couldn't sleep." I answered, moving to the pantry. It was still pretty dark, so I just turned my finger into a makeshift candle and found the jackpot on the top-shelf.

Fruit roll-ups- but not just any fruit roll-ups, the kind with the tattoos on them. I gasped and quickly rocketed myself up, grabbing the box in my free hand. Once again, it hurt like a bitch plopping back down in my seat, but luckily I went a bit slower this time. I shut the pantry door and rolled back over to Clint.

"How 'bout you?" I asked, already unwrapping one of the delectable gummies.

"Same thing. How did you manage to get out of the bed?" He asked, giving me a controller.

"Desperation, boredom and mad skills." I answered sarcastically, taking the controller happily. It was one of the earlier versions of Mario Kart that I had played before, so as soon as he resumed the game it was an intense battle of speed. Clint demanded to be Rosalina, which was completely fine with me as long as I was my man King Boo. I raced on a Flame Runner and Clint went with a Dolphin Dasher, saying he earned it through 'devotion and dexterity'. We both quietly screamed lines of more _creative _curses, especially when either of us used a blue shell, and we always were neck and neck when we got to the finish line. An hour later we had two boxes of fruit roll-ups down and were tied in our wins; our brilliant solution- competition to see who could drift the most and still get 1st on Rainbow Road. What he didn't know was that Rainbow Road was my all-time favorite racetrack, and I knew all the little tips and tricks. We set up the race, both going for our favorites; I stayed with King Boo and the Flame Runner, but Clint changed to Birdo and the Shooting Star. The little Lakitu waved his flag and the race was on. Clint immediately plowed through everyone, including me.

"Move over bitches, I'm comin' through!" Clint nearly shouted beside me. 'Mhm, not for long.' I thought, sticking back a bit. Sure enough, as soon as he tried to drift he was off the edge.

"Move over bitches, I'm comin' through." I mocked. He said nothing, but when I took a quick glance over he had an intimidating scowl of focus and frustration. I was leading in first now, but Clint was working his way up the list fast. We passed through the mystery boxes and after laying my three banana peels I heard a rocket and victory screech. Clint had gotten the Bonzai Bill power-up and scooted up to 3rd place.

"How come I getting bananas and you get Bill?" I whined, going around the corner.

"I got the _magic touch." _He answered suavely. Right as he fell off the side again.

"Hm, karma's a bitch, I guess…" I laughed out. This time I got an angry growl out of him.

"Hey it's not my fault that you fell off the edge. What is weird though, is that I haven't played a video game in over two years, and I'm still _beating your ass._" I said cockily. He murmured something about luck and muscle memory, but I just sat back and laughed at my soon-coming victory. We were on our last lap, almost half-way through and I was far in first place. We went through the mystery boxes, me being stuck with a green shell and Clint getting the infamous blue-shell of death. I didn't even see it coming. I was so close, just another round of mystery boxes, a turn and sweet, _sweet _victory, but alas, I blew up in a cloud of sadness and disappointment as Clint zoomed by me, taking up first. I puttered along to the boxes, still retaining my second place stance, but far behind Clint. Another green shell, but I would use it to the best of my abilities. He was nearing the finish line, success already etched on his face, too exuberant to see my small, weak weapon coming up behind him. It was a direct hit. Both our mouths dropped, but mine in a giant smile. We got side by side, but as the checkered flag came into view, I was getting in front of him. We passed the finish, but only one of us in first- yours truly.

"No!" The agent now screamed beside me. No number of sleeping heroes deterred us from our enthusiasm anymore.

"Ha-ha! That's right son, not today!" I bragged back to Clint, head in his hands. The elevator dinged once more beside us and we looked back to see a very sleepy Natasha stumble out.

"Hey, what's up Tasha?" Clint asked, nervousness hidden in his voice.

"I couldn't sleep." She answered grumpily.

"Well, you could join us?" He replied back.

"Clint, who has video-game battles at 5 in the morning? Especially when everyone else in this tower is trying to sleep." Don't get me wrong, the infamous Black Widow definitely scared me, but apparently not as much as she scared Clint. He was about to reply when she stopped him.

"Wrong. No one does." Clint nodded his head beside me rapidly. Natasha seemed to accept that answer and went back into the elevator, returning to her floor.

"I think you can breathe now." He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"I'll just, uh, go back to the med-thing, then…" I said, rolling away.

"You can stay up here, you know. We're pretty confident you won't kill us, considering you came to us for help and haven't done anything yet." I opened my mouth to decline, but Clint stopped me.

"Really, it's no problem- I know the beds down there suck." He told me, waiving off my dismissal. I wasn't really even planning on sleeping, just sitting in bed until a decent time to get up. In truth, I'm starting to not want to sleep, not wanting to face the images my mind gave me at night, and I don't want anyone to know. I've gotten a lot from the people at the tower, not giving them anything in return; not even working with them- which I would now be changing when I had the chance. I need to move past it and stop being so selfish. I nodded reluctantly and moved back to the recliner beside the couch. It was simple enough to move from one chair to the next, albeit painful. I slowly put the footrest up and leaned back, trying not to cause too much discomfort in doing so. Clint tossed me a blanket Tony must've gotten as/for a joke considering it had a huge picture of his face on it with the suit flying in the background.

"Sweet dreams." Clint told me, sliding down into the couch. 'Not tonight…'

"Not with this blanket." I replied jokingly. I turned on my side, facing away from him, and pretended to sleep until I heard his snoring. I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling, starting to get bored. 'I guess its back to how I kept busy in the cell…'

"10,000 bottles of beer on the wall, 10,000 bottle of beer…"

* * *

><p>3rd Person P.O.V<p>

2 Weeks Earlier

"How is our little 'project' fairing? With all the resources I've given to your program, I hope it's better than your last." A voice said threateningly over the intercom.

"It is responding well to the alterations, with only slight bugs in the orders." A woman replied, her composure never breaking.

"Fix them immediately. As soon as it is in full working order begin the process with the rest- I have waited years for a success, I don't want any more delays." The transmission was cut short as the electricity went out, followed soon by a series of explosions.

"Start it up and send it to Slaiter- make sure it stays safe, it's now your top priority." She commanded the soldiers, not flinching as the sirens wailed around them. A pistol and an emergency detonator were taken before she walked down to the prison level, ready for anything coming her way.


End file.
